The week I found my father

When resentment became understanding - and grace

It took me years to admit how much like my father I am. 

Not just in looks, although all my life people pointed out how much I resembled him, and I had to agree. That we looked so much alike annoyed me. I longed to have my mother’s beautiful hazel eyes or her operatic singing voice, or a nose that was more straight than my father’s.  

Instead, I got his b…