Children break our hearts without meaning to. In a postcard addressed simply to "Dad" my son Adam writes "I'll probably never see you again soon." I tried to think of that as a non sequitur, but it's a haunting phrase that brought my carefully constructed and rigidly maintained self image as a dad more sinned against than sinning crashing down around my ears once again.
Sarah writes to tell me they moved to Ray North Dakota. Amy bought a house there with her second husband Rick, which they apparently still own. Last I heard Rick pays Amy rent for it. I've asked the kids what the house was like, and I get the feeling they are hiding the fact it was a hellhole and garbage dump because they want to spare my feelings.
To end on a positive note, I'm making chicken teriyaki today for lunch. Enough to serve at least a dozen people. And I happen to like leftover chicken teriyaki, so I'm not worried about whether it all gets eaten today or not.
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