Where have all my children gone?

Where oh where?

My sons and my daughters?

The ones my first pediatrician told me would take care of me when I got old.

I’m old now, 75 this summer.

My eldest, #1, is in Northern California with her husband and two of her four kids.

She’s pretty busy. She became a grandmother and I don’t hear from her as much as I used to.

Then there’s the twins, boys in their fifties now, with wives and familiese. Actually each of them and their families have come to the beach to visit and spend time here. I love my daughters-in-laws. They are a blessing to this old man.

The biracial daughter we adopted never drops by. I see her Jesus remarks in Facebook. We adopted three of her six kids. She’s looking more beautiful with each passing year and has been going to community college. A fellow student, a P.I., found her bio mom in town.  Little did they know that one of her daughter’s friends turned out to be a cousin.

We live in the same town as my #5, a daughter that is an urbanarmers farmer with a husband and two boys. She harvests for farmers and gives half to the local food bank. She’s quite busy.

Of the three we adopted 24 years ago, one is in Portland  seeking employment, one works there and is deeply involved with video games and the daughter lives there but her two little ones live with us.

Where have my children gone?

What am I doing to keep in touch? I’m busy volunteering, riding my scooter and writing.

My wife is exhausted.

Families are different than I thought.

Maybe we taught them to be independent, of us?

Where are your children?


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