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.

FRIDAY FUNNIES
Life cycles sometimes bring us back to places where we’ve been
Teacher suspended for insisting that failure is an option for lazy kids
Meeting with dead man left me pondering choices of life, death
U.S. gives $529 million to build car with worse gas mileage than SUV
We often live in the tension between known and unknown
Leave your dead past behind; that’s not where you’re going
If you were once a nerdy outsider, you need to go see ‘Ender’s Game’