Disclaimer: The characters are not mine; they are the pawns of Sorkin and Wells.

Rating: PG

A/N: This piece was inspired in part by Chai's excellent fic, Buying Time, as well as the movie My Life. I was watching it today (unfortunate mustache, but at least BW plays an actual, you know, human being). Anyway, Michael Keaton's character is dying of cancer, so he makes these videotapes for his as yet unborn son to watch as he is growing up, about different things. It just got me to thinking, what would Josh do in the same situation? There may have been a similar fic to this in GCCA earlier; I can't remember. If so, I'm sorry. This just came to me and I thought I'd write it.

Second in a series of letters beginning with 25 Things to Live By

For those of you who wanted a happier resolution to this, I will be doing an alternate plot once I get finished with this particular avenue.

This was inspired by the song "He Gets That From Me" by Reba McIntire that Lauren posted about. It just seemed to go along so well in the vein of 25 Things. I highly suggest you watch the video at the link Lauren provided.

Feedback: Always a plus.

Dear Josh,

Well, I gave JJ your letter, like you asked all those years ago. I can't believe it's his Bar Mitzvah already. Toby took care of everything. It was a beautiful service, and he had such a good time at his party afterwards. Sam and CJ put together a bunch of movie clips of all of us for him, inside the office and out. Your mother sent up your old baseball glove, too. Don't worry, he's a Mets man; it looks like I might have a pitcher on my hands. I kid you not. He has such an intensity when he plays. He gets that from you, of course.

If ever a boy was his father's son, it's JJ. He looks just like you, Josh. The impish, irrepressible grin, the dimples, the hair. And he's got your eyes. He's beautiful. I swear, it's all your mother can do not to cry every time she sees him. They get along so well; he adores her, and she spoils him rotten. He can charm his way into anything. He's not quite as arrogant as you yet, though, thank goodness; heaven help me when he discovers just how smart he really is.

You'd be so proud of him, Josh. He's such a good boy, and he takes such care of me. I don't know what I'd do without him. I know you thought one day I might be sorry, that I had to raise him on my own, that it would hurt too much, but Josh, thank you. He's the best present you ever gave me, a little piece of you.

Oh, Josh.

Donna