Dear Joseph and Lucia,

I’m not looking forward to tomorrow. Joseph, it is your 17th birthday and 10 years since I’ve seen the two of you last. Every year, I get a little morose on the 11th of March. This year it will be even more so considering the significance of it being 10 years.

Enough of the sad stuff.  I have some good news.  I’m back to work.  I started last week.  I’m working in San Antonio developing in LabVIEW again.  I’m working for USAA.  Their Innovation group is developing all sorts of products to help prevent home damage due to disasters that could be avoided if intelligent sensors and processors were placed around the house.  It’s the Internet-of-Things that you might have read about in the news.  I’m excited.

I’m staying with your Uncle Martin and Aunt Jen who live here in San Antonio until I can get on my feet and find a place of my own.  It’s been a really good experience so far.  There has been a lot of water under the bridge for both of us, but in the end, we are brothers and can come together.

I miss Michèle and Rachael a lot.  I won’t get to go home every weekend like I did from Oklahoma City.  It’s a much longer drive.  Last weekend, I took the bus and it wasn’t too bad, but I’m not going to be able to afford that every weekend for a while. Not until normal paychecks start coming in.

Your mother should be happy now that child support payments will start coming in again.  Just in case she never told you, the State confiscated the last of my savings in December for arrears so you should have gotten a decent Christmas present from your mother.  The amount of money she gets is significant.  Don’t ever believe her if she tells you I never gave anything.  She’s been getting half my paycheck for years.  Also, don’t ever believe her if she tells you I left you and never wanted to talk to you or have you in my life.  When you read these letters one day, you’ll know I have never given up.  I am your father and always will be.

I’ll work hard to be the man you need as a father when it’s time for you to reach out.  Until then, I’ll wait.  As always.

Love,
Dad