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.
‘This path leads to somewhere I think I can finally say, I’m home’
Out-of-touch Keynesians still think ‘digging ditches’ is a good idea
Do tales of ‘Black Friday violence’ reflect reality or just our bias?
Sharing ridiculous things we enjoy is a special part of love
Obama administration wants to choose skin color of your neighbors
I don’t understand YouTube fame, but I’m drawn toward it anyway
Boston ‘gay on gay’ assault shines light on absurdity of ‘hate crime’
My teen hijinks were silly fun, not alcohol-fueled drunken groping
How do renegade ‘weird ideas’ grow and spread to win acceptance?