Here's Patrick. He's eighteen today. He can vote (hmm.) In June he will graduate from high school. He has pretty much decided which university he will attend in September, but I am not sure if he has crossed the T's or dotted the I's. We will go and have dinner with him and his family tomorrow—not as much fun as today when his girlfriend came over early to cook him bacon and waffles. Patrick worked at both his jobs today—the kid is no slouch.
His aunt, one of my other daughters, said she burst into tears after she phoned him today and thought about the passage of the last eighteen years. I know what she means.