A friend told me how that movement took place in his life. At about thirty-five, he began to wonder who his father really was. He hadn’t seen his father in about ten years. He flew out to Seattle, where his father was living, knocked on the door, and when his father opened the door, said, “I want you to understand one thing. I don’t accept my mother’s view of you any longer.” “What happened?” I asked. “My father broke into tears, and said, ‘Now I can die.’” Fathers wait. What else can they do? I am not saying that all fathers are good; mothers can be right about the father’s negative side, but
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