That was a treat -- as are the comments.  May I suggest  your value be upped to at least a buck-57.

10 Cents: How have I dealt?  Not always very well.
DocJay:  I agree with every single word.  Thank you.

Denise McA:  God gave me a job to do that I didn't deserve: to care for my mother through her final, extended illness.  God gave me the Grace each day to do it well.  Bless Jesus, we don't have to earn Grace.  The hospice nurse asked if I understood what had happened as Mother settled into a coma.  I said, yes, sharing her last 20 minutes of lucidity on earth was God's gift to me.  Mother's final words were: Gloria, God asked me to tell you how much He loves you.  I said, God loves you, too, Mother.  She said, yes, that was the surprise.  In the year since, in moments when I  continue to define myself with words you are familiar with: unworthy and undeserving, the Holy Spirit immediately interrupts with:  God loves you.  A woman thanked me for helping Mother to die.  I knew that I had not spent one ounce of energy on her dying, but for her joy of living.  We can do that, too, can't we, you and I?  

Joan of Ark La Tex:  Ms. McAlister furnished us with a timeline.  This has been recycling since 1999.  1999!  Picture yourself at 25 riding a bike on a dirt road.  You fall and get a nasty, deep elbow wound. Doc says clean out the gravel.  NO bandages.  It has to heal from the inside out.  Fast forward: you're now 40.  You used bandages to protect the elbow wound, didn't keep it open to the air.  The old wound is painful whenver there's a storm.   

I'm a stranger who asked questions with a sting.  (It was low using her children, but that's where she lives.  They're her heart.)  It sounded to me like she's been replaying the same lousy movie for a decade and a half.  I wondered if it just might be possible that anger vented at some cranky broad  she'll never have to deal with might open a different way for her to get at it, to heal.  She doesn't need me to coddle her.  A new timeline of peace and reconciliation for her and her children would be worth some thinking me inelegant.  

This is almost poetic.  It's also twaddle.  Still, there's truth in your words, and the truth puts the lie to your premise.  You long for generous love from your children!   They owe YOU nothing.  It's uncharitable to say the children's world crumbled.  Yours crumbled, and it seems they've been taken along for the ride. You say you can't deny your children's anxiety and heartache.  Is it your own that you refuse to deny?  Take EJHill's words to heart: The children come first, all else is selfishness.  At plays, etc.,  you're uncomfortable, because their dad may be sitting too close to you -- in an auditorium!  You say you could go on and on -- do you?  Have the children heard all this before?  You give first importance to what you truly believe: it can't be fixed.  Do you want it fixed?  Then, the power belongs to Grace alone.  Can you accept that it's your free will choice to live by Grace?   What a gift that would be for your children -- that they might know the Love and Peace of our Lord Jesus.  At age 7  I learned:  There Be Dragons.

Julia Roberts

Daniel Day-Lewis

Harrison Ford

Do you have plans to publish your posts?  I would like to distribute them to people as far as my purse will reach.  Perfect format - short stories, chock-a-block with common sense, and your words, as well as love of country, resonate. 

I truly enjoy your tales of the colors, sights, and sounds of our country.  It's as if I'm sitting at a lunch counter, taking the measure of interstate drivers, and feeling the pulse of people you meet.  Here'a a late comment on your visit home to family, and your descriptive coming-of-age stories.  It brought a smile and recollections of the many I loved, who cherished me, and are no longer here.  I grew up on a dairy farm in New England  with brothers, and a large extended family.  The snow sometimes reached the roof of the kitchen L of our large farmhouse.  You would not be any more happy there than I would be where you grew to be a man.  Even so, I sense, nay, I know that we shared a way of life all the same.

How would your alter ego pronounce Lewzeeeeannh?

Will anyone ask Mr. Holder AND the President to define their terms?  On the record?  What does "combat" mean?  How about on "U.S. soil"?   How do they define "non-combat"?  

 And the joke's on us, because they'll write all the definitions we want, and snigger.  Just like they did with this one -- laughing up their sleeve.  Holder's statement leaves it wide open.  

Amen, Brother.  From your lips to God's ear.  Amen

Huh! and Ha!  Now that I think of it, the answer is probably yes.  Physically, perhaps first cousins?  And each is a master in his chosen field.   I'm not a fan of Alton Brown's  attempts  at humor.   

I gladly and gratefully state that when Mr. Lileks goes off on one of his sideways harangues, he breaks me up.  At times I've caught myself  intently  listening for any hint that this particular one may have been (to some degree) preplanned, then think: don't waste it, Glo, just enjoy.  He has certainly developed the ability to jettison himself, and us along with him, into the stratosphere on a topic that even when expressing dissatisfaction (even anger) about a thing, his presentation brings me cheer.  Maestro Lileks, I must admit, has even drawn from me full-blown laughter on topics that are no laughing matter.  Can he cook!  Even if it's not in the kitchen.

dash (of curmudgeon):  You give me too much credit, sir.  It's your heart, and The Lord Our God who gifted you with it.  

Rob Long:  So, you got right to the heart of it.  No arms -- that added  bit of comfort and support (spelled: safety).  There may be temporary respit with your bench, but it rather urges one to get up, and be on with what's to be tackled next. 

TUCK said everything I was going to -- with one exception.  Caesar Milan will also teach you about being the alpha leader of your wolf pack.  Has your dog taken on that job?  His acting out may  mean he's not comfortable with it.  Adopting an older dog takes the same time and attention as a puppy.  About two hours every day for exercise, feeding, grooming, training is reasonable (and is time better spent than cleaning up messes).  If your personality is not suited to alpha leader, draft a family member who is, keeping a share of the daily tasks.  Our four dogs  and a cat (not all at once) thought Tom was the greatest guy in the world to feed them, help them wash the car, shovel snow, climb mountains, and play catch.   But when the chips were down, I was the alpha female of our pack.  I set the rules, was front and center for exercise, training, grooming and giving hugs and massages. You have a great deal to look forward to: unconditional love from a wonderful dog who is relieved to find  there's an alpha leader in his pack.       

Perhaps D's reputation will carry it until it regains earned prominence.  Our daughter is an alum.  She and her Dad like hockey.  He said the article made it sound like the school is about as good as its too-frequently-flimflam band ( about 20 strong) that doesn't dress or play with pride at the games.  Recently,  Colgate's band was there with uniforms, talent, and spirit; and did better than either team!  D's band "marched" around the upper levels between the 2nd and 3rd periods, two Colgate trombronists took up D's rear guard, and added umph and spirit to D's lackadaisical showing.  There's always hope, even from outsiders.  Perhaps you can find something that's not only unique, but also effective.  Didn't Mr. Robinson recently give kudos to Hanlon for making welcome current?/former? military.  A few men and women infused with the self-respect and can-do work ethic many of them gain in serving our country may have the grit to throw open the windows and fill the hallowed halls with fresh air.   (Inquiring minds: Rank: D 3rd, Colgate 10th; Colgate won 4-2, I think that's right,)

Smiling to myself, I was going to message that I didn't need to read the book, I have my own pack animal.  Then, I saw Scrutinizer's picture, and realized he beat me to the alternate definition.

So, I'll switch gears (pun intended).  My guy also runs in a pack by way of working on a short-track stock car crew.  I told him I think it's great that he has a place to go where he can grunt, scratch his crotch, pound on metal, and all are acceptable forms of communication.   Thankfully, he doesn't go in for the imbiding of alcohol part having gotten that pack activity out of his system when he was in the Seabees. 

Brent 67, and John Murdoch:  Your thought-provoking comments are most welcome.  God gave us free will - not imperfections.  Can we use what we determine to be  imperfections in perfect ways?  God assuredly can, and does.

Larry Koler: I love your story.  It's new to me.  I had a German Shepherd, Sada, who seemed to want to do everything I did.  Tom went into the bedroom to find her on my side of the bed.  (She was not allowed on the bed.)  She had put one of my most-used Bibles on the pillow, and was turning the pages (a thing she had seen me do).  The memories of Sada, now gone for years, flood back every time I pick up that Bible that has her teeth marks in the lower right corner of the cover and pages.  The day Sada died, she opened my closet, pulled my nightgown off the hook, put it on the bed, and lay on top of it.  Stories like yours, and mine, tend to remind me of the wonders we cannot perceive, seemingly much like the ants.  But even so, we can glory in the Grace of them.

I just posted at #6, and saw yours at #3.  God's doing a work in me right now.  I know it, because all the caustic comments that came to mind were cast aside as not appropriate.  It does seem, however, that this is acceptable: 

Who is the empty chair?  You, or the rest of us?