I have tickets to go see the Rocky Horror Picture Show this weekend. I was hesitant to mention it my letter to the kids.  Then it hit me… I was my youngest’s age (14) when I first saw it.  The last time I saw my children, they were 5 and 7.  They are now 14 and almost 16. It’s so hard for me to imagine them how they might be now.

I’ve missed 9 years of their lives. That’s longer than I spent with them. They are teenagers now.  I can only wonder what kind of persons they grew up to be. All I have is the blueprint I established with them in their youth.  I can anticipate the imprint from their mother’s behavior.  It makes me sad.

I doubt they will ever enjoy a cult film.  I doubt they ever tried to sneak out to hang out with friends. All the things teenager’s get up to.  They’ll never do it.

Then I wonder if they will ever rebel against their mother and Google me. I’m here to find. I’m not hiding.

Shame on their mother for instilling a fear of their own father. How dare you, Mary!

I just know I have two teenage children that don’t have a father in their lives. And I don’t know them anymore