I know how it started. The year was 1965. They thought it was love. It happens when you’re young.

The child was a girl, sweet and innocent – a responsibility. Too much for two. Love turned to anger, jealousy, hate and divorce.

She was virtually abandoned, taken in by aging grandparents. When her parents return she is a teen, struggling to survive alone and looking for love.

Dad is living comfortably while the mother struggles. Driven by anger, jealousy and hate they compete for her love. Dad is the victor, money wins.

She is an adult now, two children and four husbands. Money wins. She is spoiled, selfish and entitled. It isn’t the generation, it’s her life.

Her parents are both gone, too young. She remembers them and misses them, too late. She still searches for that love materially, selfishly and compassion less.

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I know this girl and it makes me sad and angry. Sad for the tough life she had growing up. But angry that still she can’t find it in her heart to do right when it matters.

PS – It is all about the dolls – sad but true.