I think of my children every day, just about all day. From the time that I wake up until the time that I go to bed. I try to not be scared for them, as the world is an awful place. I wish (and pray) for the best, instead of worrying. When your son, your hopes and your dreams turns out to be something else completely different then what you wish, you fall down a black hole of everyday life. You smile, you run a house, but inside the void cannot be filled because it is mathematically incalculable.
How do you start new dreams? When the old ones got crushed like insignificant bugs on the sidewalk of life?