MICHAEL'S BIRTHDAY

Michael, my baby, will be 13 a week from today. We haven't live together for five years. We spent time traveling during the summer, but he can live without seeing or talking to me for extended periods of time. I should appreciate his independence. But it is difficult for me to live without seeing or talking to him.

Divorces are a terrible thing. I have weathered three. I am not a better person for those experiences. There was much pain and my three sons suffered the most. I had no children in my first marriage, but I had two boys in the second. Their mother was a fine person, but I left her from one day to the next. I was a glutton. I couldn't be satisfied. Now I'm choking on my own vomit.

Carlos and Joaquin were 13 and 11 at the time. They begged me not to leave. Tears filled their eyes and they could barely express themselves through trembling chins.

"We need our Daddy," they pleaded.

"I will be here," I argued.

I had been a good Daddy. I coached them in various sports and bought them their first musical instruments. There were innumerable good times that the four of us shared. We were a family that enjoyed each other's company. I have never been greedy in an economic sense, but I have coveted my neighbor's wife. I chose to jump into the pit. As a result, my two oldest boys didn't speak to me for seven years. Since I was a good father, I persevered. They have forgiven me and I believe I have regained their love.

We don't have to go to hell to pay for our sins. We pay for our sins here on earth. I'm not a spiritual person, but I prostrate myself before the power of karma. There is both an immediate and future reckoning.

For my baby's birthday there will be no pictures of a chocolate cake. There will only be sadness. There will only be the memories that sear the brain and break the heart.

Payback is a bitch!