Bittersweet Notes From the Road

Just leaving a pal’s house, let’s call him Jo. I met him 30 years ago. He was a rock star in my world. He’d been handpicked to work with and was a close friend of two of the giants in my field. Let’s call them Joe and Sharon. Sharon was one of my “lifesavers.” The first time I met her I was part of an audience of more than a thousand. She wouldn’t have known me from a wall hanging. Her words reached right into my soul, as if I was the only one in the room, and I heard her say “There is help available”. I took her up on that offer. She was right. There was. It worked. Joe’s friendship allowed me to have the kind of relationship I couldn’t have with my own dad. Our relationship filled in

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