I watched the white-haired man walk slowly into the bank. He used a cane to steady himself. He moved slowly. He looked very frail.
I knew the face, but I didn’t really know that face anymore. I had known this man when he was young and strong and vibrant, not when he seemed more like the men from my grandparents’ generation.
But though I hadn’t seen him for years — and though he had changed a lot — this man was still my father.
Until today, I hadn’t seen anyone in my family for roughly eight years. Although I never would have called us this when I was a child, the truth is that we were a seriously dysfunctional family. We didn’t know that phrase then — and even if we had known it, we would have been in denial.
The more I understand humans, the less I believe we’ll ever all get along
Aren’t you thankful for the right to vote before they take your money?
What will you do when ‘electing the right people’ doesn’t change things?
Sex is everywhere in our culture, but we’re starved for intimacy
A year later, my father’s death looms large, but I have no regrets
I didn’t realize this until tonight, but I have been needing to cry
In Northern Ireland, Obama attacks church schools as source of division
Reaction to Googler’s memo says, ‘Diversity is good if you conform’