My daughter left home at sixteen. She dressed for college the morning. I watched her go. Then when I returned home, she had moved out. I was devastated. But I decided that I was not going to look for her. That was a mistake, but that’s another story.
Category: Letters from America (Page 1 of 2)
This YMCA is a five-star hotel, my Jimmy. It’s the sort of establishment planners should design, and politicians plan for the benefit of the fast-growing elderly population in every area. The only problem is that politicians use the services of places like this for their elderly folks. They do not need to show interest in a Social Security programme that may help those less fortunate.
My Dear Jimmy, there’s something not quite Kosher here. It’s a mirror image of Jacqui and myself some years ago. How Jacqui could not stand me. How I could not stay in the flat when she was around. She was prepared to let me live on the streets rather than have me in her place with her. The utter disruption when we were together.
One more miss-you-night-and-day, my dearest Toady. Just cannot mention the hows because it has been an eternity. Still, I soldier on. Thankfully, Sally and I have a good laugh now and then. We even went out to lunch. She is quite funny when she is not worrying. Some people are eternal worriers. They see monsters everywhere. I tend to see the good side that most people don’t realise they have.