It was two years ago today that my wife and her mother passed.She releases the countertop and turns toward me as she says, “Dad.”“Yes,” I repl....“Are you ever going to date?”Not wanting to take part in this conversation, I stand and begin to walk away.She slams her hands against the countertop as she shouts, “Damnit Dad, do not walk out on me.”An outburst is unusual for her, and it surprises me. I stare into her eyes trying to understand. Her facial expression doesn’t express hurt. It expresses. You worked with each other. You played together. There was a lot of getting to know each other and getting comfortable together that happened before people were added to the pod.”“I completely agree, Mom,” I said—perhaps too emphatically. I really couldn’t imagine adding another woman to our group. We needed to be focused on supporting each other. And right now, I was focused on thinking about Rachel and knowing she wouldn’t be home to meet me when we got back to Fort Wayne. I whispered a. More

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