I’ve lived here almost a year; Dad hasn’t been here since Christmas. With all the snow and the bright sunshine today, he didn’t recognize the house. Said he’d driven back and forth past it at least four times, and I guess none of them was the times I’d been outside, looking. He doesn’t have a cell. When he was an hour-and-a-half late, I called the house, and he was home. We’ll try again next week.
This hurts like a son-of-a-bitch.
I don’t know what’s gonna come out, but I’m gonna go pray. Because I don’t know what else to do.