For years, as my three children have eschewed all contact with me, thanks to their Mother actively involving them in the divorce litigation as minors in a narcissistic expression of her personality, I have spent all holidays I've been in town for at the same restaurant here in Northern Virginian at noon, hoping one or more of them would join me for lunch. It's always a quiet lunch, with no company but with good food.
Again on New Year's Day, to no avail. For the last time.
Lessee, the last time I laid eyes on any one of my children was in 2003. The last time I heard one of their voices was in 2007.
Jimmy, Johnny, Danny, fare thee well. I live in your childhood home, I'm in the book, and my work number hasn't changed for two decades.