I am a terrible parent. It’s ok. It hurt when I was first informed of it but I have had a few years for it to sink in and I am ok with it now.
A tree sways it’s thick branches overhead, waving to me in my lying repose. I stare up through the green canopy of leaves and watch the sun steal in among the movement, stabbing it’s bright heat to the forest floor and warming the fragrant pine needles that have accumulated like a mattress.