i call it my father's tree, but i never find him there. maybe he comes other times, to be silent and alone. i always felt i was disturbing him.

i say to him, it's ok you are disappointed in me, really it's ok.

his arms are long his hugs awkward, i stiffened, trying not to squirm, stiffening more. at the airport he always cried as we left. i was always unprepared. i felt bad for him. angry for myself.

hey dad, i remember you said i'd never work as long as i had two nickels to rub together. you gave me fifteen hundred bones for graduating and i bought a little audi and took m dog and you said it's just like travels with charley, hmph. anyway dad though i am still making no progress or going anywhere now i work all the time and lay it by with nary a glance. nothing in a way changes. if you were here we'd still be the same. strange is all.