You would think I would be able to sleep knowing that my son was going to be okay, but I couldn't. The what-ifs going through my head wouldn't stop turning and it seemed there was no way to make them slow down. I glance down at my wife and realize that she was able to sleep. She looks so at peace that I would love to rub her hair or kiss her but I don't dare wake her. Instead I quietly slip off the covers, tiptoe across the room to go out the door and down the stairs and go outside. I know I can do this without waking anybody; I've done this a million times before.

The moment I step outside, I wish I had worn a robe or something. Winter was still in transition with spring and the nip in the air wasn't telling anybody any lies. I cross my arms over my tank top and cross my legs together to warm them up; boxer shorts just aren't cutting it.

"Tim?" My neighbor and friend, Wilson, calls out for me out of nowhere.

"Wilson?" I answer back. With the cold, night air clogging my airway and making my breath visible, I jog over to see Wilson's eyes and forehead; they were the only parts of his body I ever saw at all. "You're out a little late aren't you, buddy?"

"Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you."

"You got me there," I gave in. I had to chuckle at myself. Despite that, it's obvious that Wilson knows I'm not out here to have a good time. "Nah, I came out to calm myself down. Did you hear about Randy?"

"Yes, Jill told me," he confessed. "What did the doctor say?"

"It's just a case of hypothyroidism, no cancer."

"Well, that's a big relief for you all, I'm sure."

"You better believe it. It's good knowing that it's something only a little medication can fix over time."

"I'm glad Randy's okay, but are you okay, Tim?"

"You know, I don't know anymore, Wilson."

The bubble burst when I said that to him. Tears, the only hot thing about my body, began to fall from my eyes out of nowhere.

"Tim, this is the first time I've ever seen you cry," Wilson remarked.

"He's my baby, Wilson," I said as I wiped my face.

"Ah, yes," he says with his philosopher voice. God, I can only imagine what he's going to say. "Jill was reminding me of that poor baby with the colic that you would walk around with in the backyard to get him to calm down."

"Yeah," I said, chuckling again. "He was a handful but my God he was beautiful. I will forever joke around, Wilson, but man that boy has broken my heart more than anyone. He's always had a tough break with his health in some way."

"I can imagine but Tim, I believe everything happens for a reason. If it weren't for baby Randy's colic, you would have never met me and I'm pretty wonderful."

"You are one of a kind, Wilson," I chuckle again. How this guy always knows what to say, I'll never know. "I really do have to thank you for always being here for me and my wife and my sons."

"What are neighbors for, Tim? Hey, let me ask you again: are you okay?"

"Yes," I say as I put my hand on top of his on the fence. "I'm okay, Wilson."

"I knew you were. Go get some sleep."

"Yeah, you, too," I say as I give his hand one last pat and head back into the house. While I was treking, I had a thought and it wasn't about to let me go. I had to tell Wilson.

"Hey, Wilson?" I called out.

"Yes, Tim?" he answered.

"You know, good fences make good neighbors."

"Goodnight, Tim."