Josefa and I in Germany
Josefa called not long after. “Carmen called and told me you
have found Michael,” she said. She wondered how I found him, and I told her.
“He really gave all us a hard time when he was young,” she
said. “I remember the last time I saw him. He must have been about seventeen.
Mother and he were visiting me in my new home, and while we were talking,
Michael went to the bathroom and stayed a very long time. When he came back I
went, and you won’t believe what the bathroom smelled like. He smoked something
in there, and it sure wasn’t a cigarette. I told him that I don’t appreciate
such behavior. They left, and I never saw him again.”
“That’s all over and done now,” I said. “Right now Michael
needs positive contact. When you visit or write him, don’t talk about those
time. He probably doesn’t remember much of them, anyway.”
“We all had our own problems then, had to worry about making
a living and raising a family. We just didn’t have any time to help him. And
what could we have done, anyway?”
“Just let’s be proud of him. He’s come such a long way. He’s
alive, and that’s something. He’s been drug and alcohol free for years now, or
he wouldn’t be able to live where he does. All he wants it to make it to his sixtieth
birthday and have a big family party then.”
“I’ll write him for Christmas,” Josefa promised.
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