Sunday, April 2, 2017

6.  Can’t Adapt Without Admitting
“How’s Heath doing these days?” I asked.
“Good,” Hilary said. “Heath still misses his father, but he adapted a long time ago.”
“You’re dating again.  Looks like you’re adapting.”
She sighed and smiled at the same time.  “When his father died, Heath was ten.  He stuck out his chin, straightened his back, and walked through his grief.  He had to.  I sank into my bottle.  Just refused to believe Bill was gone.
“There was an old shed in the back of our yard where my husband tinkered with small engines.  After he died, I just let it rot.  I used to get drunk and pretend he was still out there, fixing some neighbor’s lawnmower.” She wiped away a tear.  “Right before I got sober, the kid next door put his foot through the rotted floor.  He had to get some stitches.  Heath tore down the shed the next day.  I had to admit Bill was gone and get on with my life. I put off adapting until I was forced to admit life had changed.”

Today I’ll remember I can’t adapt to change until I admit things have changed.

Time for a Change ©2017 by Ken Montrose
Time for a Change is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.

Other works by Ken Montrose are available at:

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