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…