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Five years. That’s how long it has been since your world ended. That’s how long it has been since your lovely and vibrant wife, Lisa, died.

A not-insignificant part of you died when Lisa did. Married for ten years, it’s not an exaggeration to say that they were the happiest years of your life. You hadn’t known what you were missing before meeting her. She took you into her life in her gentle and eager way, making you feel like the center of her universe. You’re not stupid, you were not, but she had that ability. A way to make everyone feel like she was focused on only them. You didn’t mind that she had a family before you. An absolute piece of crap ex-husband, and three beautiful daughters. You were blissfully happy. You didn’t want children, you had a vasectomy. She made her family appeal to your, somehow. You were so happy.

Five years ago, that ended at the front bumper of a van. Some drunk idiot, coming home from a company party. He hadn’t even noticed. The police found him two blocks away, snoring at the wheel of the vehicle he had gently run along a building. The blood of your wife was still on the front.

You don’t hate him. It’s not that you’re a good person, you just can’t find the energy for that kind of emotion any more.

The company paid handsomely, aware that they should not have let the guy drive. It turned out to be a good thing. You struggled at work. Everything that had been interesting and challenging before just seemed meaningless. It was a few months before your boss couldn’t make excuses for you anymore. She politely but firmly told you it was time to quit, so you did.

The only reason for existence you have had for the past year has been raising the three wonderful daughters Lisa left behind. You try very hard not to let them see you suffer. There have been times you have broken down, but you rally and continue to be there for them. The only thing that has been harder for them than losing their mother has been the declaration of their fucktard of a father that he wanted nothing to do with them before flying off to mooch off of his new, gullible girlfriend.

So, this is your life now. You wake up and begin to think about what you need to do today. Your thoughts float to each of your daughters. Isabelle (Izzi for short) is 22, in her last year of college. She’s home for the break. She’s not just the oldest, but also the tallest. She wears her blonde hair around her upper back. She’s very intelligent and has been almost as instrumental as you at keeping this family together. You smile as you think about how she’s about to spread her wings and be her own woman.

In the middle is Sara. Sara is 20 and has now switched her major four times. With the typical indecisiveness of a middle child, Sara has gone from engineering (“Too hard!”) to art (“No future in it.”) to pre-law (“Too boring!”) to nursing (“We’ll see”). You love her to death, and seeing her pretty face framed by her lovely auburn hair makes your day, but the child is exhausting. Even with your lawsuit windfall, you’re not sure how many years of college you can pay for until Sara finds her passion.

The youngest is Mindy. Having just turned eighteen three months ago, she is in her last year of high school. Mindy, in contrast to her sisters, is short and dark, to her constant annoyance. You honestly have no idea where the coloring came from (though Lisa used to swear she had some Native blood in her). It certainly didn’t come from blonde-haired blue-eyed whose-his-fuck. Mindy has taken to highlighting her hair sometimes in order to look more like her sisters, but there is nothing she can do to gain five inches to be Izzi’s height.

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