Finding Your Glue

Six years ago if you’d asked me who the glue in my family was, I would’ve said my mother. 
Five years ago my dad died and I’ve come to discover that he was actually the invisible glue that made us a family.

My dad was older than my mother by nine years and that began to show as they moved into their golden years. Dad was content to stay home, watch TV, feed his birds, and just generally, putz around the house. Mom, on the other hand, was—still is—in constant motion. She’s either golf...<![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>