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.
How do we intuitively see truth through the fog of perception?
W.V. student suspended from school and arrested for pro-gun t-shirt
I don’t like most people in TV ads, but I can’t tell if it’s them or me
I support MLK’s original goals, but not what his birthday represents
2-day-old baby reminds me that miracles still happen every day
Why fixate on nationality, religion and ethnicity of some mass killers?
Cats, dogs and children teach me efficiency doesn’t always matter
Inflated expectations make good people act like entitled children
Fear of Big Brother: What good are rights if you’re afraid to use them?