Yesterday, we entered a new timeline. I don’t know if it’s a better one or a much worse one.
But it’s something new.
This evening, we arrived home from touring a new city — checking out neighborhoods and schools — and found the unspeakable had marched on our hometown. Filth and venom, spewing.
The kids watched a movie, and I went for a run alone in the dark. To think.
It was a half mile down the river from the spot where their grandparents took them fishing yesterday – not far (in space or time) from where the mother drowned her two-year-old in the lake. I don’t believe it was out of evil. It was because here, there is no avenue for help — only hate.
My son came into our room at bedtime to say goodnight. He gave me a big hug — even longer than usual. I told him I missed him while we were away and was glad to be home. He hugged me tighter and said, “You’re the best dad.”
And just like that, it was decided. They can’t grow up here. We have to leave.