Sitting at a table in the street under an umbrella distant enough from the others to take masks off and talk a little, the three of them and I, as we wait for our breakfast to arrive. You worry about what will become of them. You worry about the example you may be failing to provide. You try to restrain or at least filter the advice they will likely not heed if you issue it. It's going to be a hot day, but September's just around the corner. Two will return to school soon, virtually, while the other will struggle to find her own place to live which she cannot afford with her college degree and a full time job. She talks about government assistance. The ghost of my step-father clenches my teeth.
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