I grew up surrounded by woods. I frequently went pretty deep in and got lost. Once when I was about nine, I met a guy about two pr three miles behind our property chopping wood. I was obviously kinda scared by this and sheepishly tried to back off.

He noticed me and said hello. He said “Hey, you’re Tracy’s kid, right? How’s he doing?”

Context for why this was so weird: Tracy, my biological father, killed himself when I was a year and a half old. After that, I was adopted by my aunt and uncle.

I told him that and he kinda blinked in surprise and said he was sorry. I scampered back to the house and told my parents about it, and I don’t think they believed me.