The kids give me life.
It would be so awesome if they could have a conversation with me.
It’s so many years from now when they’ll understand all of this visitation and short phone calls.
I’m not a patient man. I have to slowly watch the hours and days and weeks go by until my son doesn’t have the same stoic, confused expression when he and my daughter get into their mom’s car.
He’s watching. Forming questions. Unsure of how he should feel.
I try to be here in the moments. But it’s hard waiting out the time they can ask and understand these things.