Wanda was telling me this morning on the drive back about her deepest regrets.
"My children," she told me. "I put them through hell with my drinking."
She said her son was in the Army and stationed in Germany. He will not talk to her. Her daughter is also in AA and trying to stay sober with several young children of her own.
"I was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," Wanda told me. "You put some tequila in me and I turned into an abusive bitch of a mother. I was mean, too, and would fight and abuse my family."
"It is a sickness," I replied. "I reckon it is very similar to insanity. Believe me. I know."
My ex-wife couldn't have children and I think that was a blessing in disguise. I never put children of mine through the hell that can be mental illness and addiction.
Will I ever have kids? Hopefully, not until I have many years of sobriety and recovery from schizophrenia. I am not heeding the alarm of my biological clock. Maggie shall be my furkid. Now, if I can just keep her from digging out of the fence. It is like a teenage daughter sneaking out a window late at night to be with a boyfriend.