“Let’s go for a walk at Conestee this afternoon,” K suggested after lunch. She and the Boy had gone to church while I stayed home and did school work and the Girl headed off to work, so we hadn’t spent any time together as a family. Yet as is often the case these days, “time with the family” really only means K and I with the Boy.

The Girl, almost 17 now, has her own life: she hangs out with friends, meets them at football games, goes to dances with them, drives them here and there. She has volleyball and work along with her heavy load of AP classes (all four classes she’s taking this semester), which means when she’s home, she’s usually doing homework. Or sleeping.