Yesterday being a holiday, I went at noon to the Lost Dog Cafe to dine, as is my custom. I ordered the spinach bacon feta pie, which also contained mozzarella cheese and basil.
As usual, my companion the Empty Chair silently took in everything I had to say, displaying in its structure an inherent strength within. This contemplation on my part led me to wonder about the strength of character of adults who casually break blood bonds and human norms of decency in rejecting an entire family line and casting aside the full dictate of the 5th Commandment.
The pizza was delicious and there was more than enough to accommodate anyone who might happen by. No one did, so leaving behind a part of my meal as a good-luck omen for the next time, I left.
My oldest son, who is in his thirties, has a birthday next, and I think I'll try something different on that day. At noon on that day I'll be in the bustling Italian Store across the street and up the block from the Lost Dog, ordering its New York style pizza to consume at one of the booths or counters inside the store.
Perhaps one or more of my estranged sons, or the one daughter-in-law I know about (I've never met her), will display common human kindness and join me. After that my youngest son has a birthday, wherein he will enter his thirties, and after more than a decade spent always being available for them, I'll stop trying to hold the door open for them to overcome their adolescent-induced anger at me from the divorce, abetted mightily by their mother's manipulation of them at the time and since then.
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