half a man’ in hushed tones that were meant to be overheard. When family gatherings occurred, he was strategically kept out of photographs, as if erasing his presence from the visual record could erase his existence from our lives.
My father, a man who prided himself on his wit, often crossed the line into cruelty. He would make derogatory jokes about our future, wondering aloud if our children would ever be able to ‘reach the dinner table.’ These comments were delivered with a smirk that made my blood boil, yet
