Life Without Parents
I don’t really dream about you anymore. Either of you. I wish I did, but I don’t. I look at photos of us and feel nothing less than emptiness. Sometimes I smile, but I think I am still vacant inside. Full, in one sense, because of my children, your grandchildren, but a void the size of the Grand Canyon in that second sense. I feel love and I love, but I wish I could apply that to both of you.