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.
Love & Hope — Episode 14:
Zombie statists: ‘But if there’s no government, who’ll build roads?!’
She says she’ll always love me, but she didn’t say who she was
‘Curing’ unpopular beliefs through psychiatry is throwback to ugly past
Night of panic and little sleep shows chaos of finding my way
Successful CEO walks away from job after daughter’s challenge
We often value a love only after we’ve carelessly thrown it away
How long will I keep finding toxic programming from my childhood?
Just underneath a civilized veneer, savage conqueror lives in my DNA