It never fails to surprise me when she asks; if I am okay. You asked me the same thing when you told me you needed a break. I thought you were kidding. We had it made; but you said he needed more. I was so naive. In time I would understand. That he needed you as much as she needs me now that is. For a long time, I couldn’t drive by where it happened. But now I do, and I must admit I sit in the car sometimes as silently as the coming of spring and try to imagine what happened.  We both know where the turn in the road turned our lives around forever. I just sit there in the rain cursing. I see no problem with cursing that spot. I picture in my mind you off in the field while he is walking back toward the car to get the picnic basket and wine. From your view it must have been so innocent but you forgot your sweater and you raced back ahead of him to get it with your back turned away and leaning against the pulled over car. You never saw anything but the lights in his eyes; a full moon picnic for two. She says she sees Mommy in dreams sometimes and that when she does you tell her to listen to me and that one day we will understand; time is so brief. And that you are sorry, and in the dreams, you always tell her it is okay. “You have Dad,” and smile. I seldom tell her I dream about you too. I see thunderstorms in the distances. Puffy moving massive skies corrupted by fierce moving sheets of rain and air swirling up from the ground. Yeah; I dream of you.