The window...

So little, innocent, trusting.

"Is it Friday yet?  Is my dad coming to get me?"

Friday comes, no dad, no show week after week.

Then, she grows up, so insecure, angry, resentful.

Still searching for acceptance.

We hear about it all the time, don't we?

We wring our hands and like other parents/
grandparents, we're

wishing, just wishing it could have been different
 while still seeing that little girl at the window.

It breaks my heart.