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.
After last month’s weight freakout, something’s shifted in my attitude
I choose love over hate, because the author of the story’s not done
Hiding anger was a survival skill, so you might not know I’m angry
Arming teachers for safety likely to create gang that can’t shoot straight
Barack Obama’s effort to imitate FDR’s ’36 campaign full of danger
Tenn. woman threatened for allowing daughter to ride bike to school
Super Suckers: Indy taxpayers take bath in red ink to build stadium