Dear Beth,

you were right.

We are all gathered in the kitchen.

Your mom is cooking, your dad is

sneaking meatballs to all the family

dogs lurking under the table. Your

mom is chiding him “Oh, Alfred!”

My mom and Lucy are trading war

stories and Flash is playing show

tunes on a beautiful Steinway in the

other room. I feel healthy and strong,

and have finally made peace with Jack.

But you were very wrong about one thing.

This is all exactly as we could have hoped,

        but it is for-ev-er.

That scares the heck out of me,

here in this place where

there should be no fear.

PS: I now know the answer to

“Why is there anything?”

I just wish that I could tell you.