you can get past a mistake, but it's much harder to get past being a cruel person.

We drove on in silence, Dad shaking his head in disgust every few minutes. I stared at him, wondering how it was we got to this place. How the same man who held his infant daughter and kissed her tiny face could one day be so determined to shut her out of his life, out of his heart. How, even when she reacyhed out to him in distress - Please, Dad, come get me, come save me - all he could do was accuse her. How that same daughter could look at him and feel nothing but contempt and blame and resentment, because that's all that radiated off of him for so many years and it had become contagious.

Just like there's always time for pain, there's always time for healing.

When that happens, it's a tactical mistake on our part. We can't blame the goalie on that one.

I got caught up with the referees. I'll take the blame on that.

Forget the glam nights out, apparently she would Much rather stay at home and watch TV.