It's late - almost 1:30, and I've been up for over 20 hours. I started the day in a hotel a few miles south of Midway airport, went to Philadelphia and back, and then returned to Iowa. My spiritual journey was much harder, much longer. I started the day once again a father with two sons (having picked up Andrew at Midway last night) and end the day as a father with no sons. That's not entirely true I guess; I have sons, they are just 1,000 miles away from me.
That's why I'm not in bed yet, tired as I am. I know as soon as I shut the last lights off and lie down, it's all going to come crashing in on me. There were moments of tears throughout the afternoon after I left E, but I was able to fight them off. I know I won't now. I'll just have to accept them, accept that my life is no longer as bright as it was and won't be again for sometime, but I'm not ready for that yet.
There is an unfairness about it to me. It's unfair that there are parents who don't love their children, who don't want their children, who would be happy to be in my position. It's unfair that, at least to me, the bulk of the responsibility for our family, my family, being in this position lies elsewhere, but the bulk of the pain lies with me.
But the dogs are here, and though they sense my sadness, and though they know that E is not here, they will do what they can to keep me happy. I can devote my spare time more to myself, if not all to myself, and my expenses are cut drastically. These things don't add up to what I lost, but they will have to do.