The Fattest Skeleton in My Closet

Yesterday, for the first time in 20 years, I had the privilege of hearing from my old girlfriend Nancy. Her life would have been much better had she never met me. When I as 19, Nancy got pregnant with my child. I freaked out, to put it mildly. I wanted Nancy to have an abortion. Nancy bravely carried the child to term, gave birth to a son she fondly called Boris, and then gave him up for adoption. His name is now Bryce, and he is in his early 20's and lives somewhere in rural Nebraska. He's alive today because Nancy loved him so much. This is all the more weird in that I myself was adopted and later had the good fortune to reconnect with my parents. Today I count my birth mother Susan as a great friend. I wonder if one day I'll ever get the chance to meet Bryce. I think I would like that very much. Nancy had always wanted to move to Los Angeles to pursue an acting career. I was glad to hear that she was successful in this endeavor. I apologized yesterday to Nancy for the way I treated her, as she certainly deserved better. But words can't take back any of the harm I did. Actually nothing can. I'll get to see Nancy and meet her boyfriend soon, as it turns out they come to Jazzfest quite often and will be here again this year. Nancy made contact with me after these many years by leaving the following comment on a picture of me: " Sorry to state the obvious but...you got fat."