My father retired somewhere around sixty-six or sixty-seven. At first, nothing seemed terribly different. He still woke up early. He still made his tea the same way he always had. But little by little … read more

There are moments in life when words feel inadequate to capture the essence of a man, and writing about my father, is one of those moments. Born on October 19, 1943, and passing away on August 28, … read more