Years after my father died, I began to understand many of the things that impeded our having, at least, a collegial relationship. Much had happened during my teens and college years to affect our seeing each other with something other than wariness and skepticism. Not much changed after that, but I had hoped that when Emily was born, she would be a bridge between him and me. That didn’t happen, although we did reach a sort of détente. After he died, I recognized that his behavior probably originated from what had happened to him in the Philippines during WWII. He...

Article Link