My friend asked the question out of the blue. I was spending the night with my friend, Larry, and I was lying on a twin bed in the corner of his room.
“What do you think about your mom being gone?” he asked.
It didn’t strike me as a difficult or important question, but something about the experience has burned everything about it into my memory. I was about 10 or 11 years old. Although my mother had been away from us off and on for years, the divorce had been final only for a year or two. She had no custody or official visitation.
I considered Larry’s question for a long moment. I felt very cold. Very hard. There was no emotion in my voice.
“I couldn’t care less if she moved to the Sahara Desert,” I said.
That’s all I said and Larry didn’t ask any more. It’s a good thing, because I might have cried if he had pushed to know what I meant. I was confused. I couldn’t tell if I felt nothing or if I felt more than I could handle. I swept the feelings under a rug in my heart — and I left them there.

Little girl’s face and colorful sky have power to pierce my heart
Our inexplicable behavior ‘signals’ to the world who and what we are
Best time to raise dragon-slayers is when dragons are everywhere
A year after surreal experience of surgery, I’m still happy to be alive
I wasn’t allowed to express need, so I’ve spent life traveling alone
What do we prove with huge houses we can’t afford to pay for or even fill?
We don’t know how to love until we learn to set our egos aside
FRIDAY FUNNIES