When my girls rides their bikes, they get suited up pretty well: pants, long-sleeve shirts, and helmet. They are prepared for what might befall them as they cruise and wind around our cul-de-sac. I think about how the adults of my youth would sometimes holler, "Get into the back of the truck!" and how we kids would be thrilled at the prospect of a hot summer's wind blowing through our young hair. Is it sad that my kids may never hear that call to adventure? I wonder. Perhaps so.
"I am so lonely, but I know there is a plan. There must be. I can muscle through my life until the next move is clear. I miss you all so much. I am alone for most of the time. It's just me and the cats and dogs. Nobody comes up. Nobody stops by. It's not like it used to be -- so full of life. Perhaps I'll move down there with you. But not now. There is a plan, and I must follow it. I must follow it even though it's too quiet around here."
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