When this whole thing started, when we were on our way from the pediatrician's office to the hospital for an actual diagnosis, I called my dad. I was in the car by myself, trying to process what just happened, and what was about to happen, and when he answered, all I could get out was, "Dad. We're on our way to the hospital, they want ...," and he cut me off with, "I'm coming." The more I tried to get the words out, he just kept calmly saying, "I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm on my way right now." And he did come. And he was there with us every minute, even when we went to "the little room" where the doctor gave us "the news." As a father, and a grandfather, I know it was one of the most important, most difficult moments of his life, and I still haven't found the words to thank him for being there. I love him, and I'm so lucky he's mine.
As for T-Bone, y'all know how I feel about him. And so does he. Honestly, they broke the mold.