I was hoping that with the all the snow and ice we’ve had this week that I might be able to cancel dinner plans with my parents, but the roads had mostly thawed by the afternoon, leaving me with no excuse not to visit.

I used to enjoy spending time with them. Before my legal troubles began, I’d visit my parents two to three times a month. We’d spend the day together cooking, sharing recipes, and walking through my mother’s vegetable garden. Then we’d gather at the dinner table to enjoy a delicious meal, followed by dessert and coffee on the sofa.

We still do all of those same things. But now when my father hugs me, it’s because he doesn’t know how much time he has left with his son. And when my mother laughs, it is in the hope that she might forget.