Monday, October 31, 2011

If Only I Could ...

Jon paused at the door of Dougie's old room, not daring to enter and risk an emotional breakdown. He had long since emerged from the black cloud of self-condemnation that had dogged him after Dougie's death. He had stoically acknowledged his part in allowing his older son to drift unchallenged into questionable relationships and the drugs that eventually claimed his life. As a result, Jon resolved to remain active in the lives of his other two children. But tonight he felt intense frustration prompted by five-hundred-plus miles of the Californias standing between him and the objects of his resolve.

Jon had not yet been to Redding, nor would he be able to go until the break between sessions at the recreation center. He was already planning to spend nine days up north with the kids, and Stevie had approved the visit. But that was still three weeks off, and Jon was getting crazy to see his daughter and son. If only I could cook Saturday morning breakfast for them again, he thought as he closed the drapes in his bedroom. If I could take them to church and maybe to the park.

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