2 1/2 hours!

Henry called Thursday night and we blabbed, and blabbed and blabbed. It was great to reconnect with him. I don't know why he reached out, but I'm glad he did. I've been feeling adrift, and it's good to know that I'm tethered to people who love me.

Family was on his mind. He told me a story he'd never mentioned before -- that his paternal grandfather shot (but didn't kill) his grandmother. He was so matter of fact about it that it was almost as if he didn't realize that not everyone has a shooting in their family tree.

More important to him Thursday was another family legend -- this his father has an illegitimate daughter in New York City. Dad has always denied it, Mom believes it or doesn't (depending on how hostile she happens to be feeling toward Dad that day), and Henry isn't sure. But he was thinking about it in terms of his parents' relationship, how his father never loved his mother the way she deserved.

The subject of family returned him to us. How he loves me, how I'm the sister he chose, and if he hadn't moved from Puerto Rico to Chicago to attend and teach at Northwestern, we never would have met and how sad that would have been. So many of my relationships lately have felt transactional -- specifically based upon what I can do for you -- and it was lovely and comforting to hear this from my old, dear friend.

He's been exploring these feelings for his writing. He's been attending a poetry workshop and working through his relationships, especially the one with his father, through writing. I completely support this because Henry deserves to be at peace. But when our call hit the two hour mark, I had to start winding it down. I had an early meeting Friday morning!