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The Distillation of Dad

Years before he began to wither and weaken from Parkinsonism, my father told me that after he started working as a chemical engineer, he went to law school for a semester at night…

Ghosts on a Path

There was a time when I drove to work or did something more daring like skiing down a mountain, I always saw my parents on either side of me–hovering, maybe floating at shoulder level, nodding their silent approval…