2. Absence


It’s not lack of love, though even I have to admit my relationship with my Father was trussed with tension and remorse. It’s not even that I eschew public crying, although, to be honest, there is little I find more humiliating, even at appropriate and expected times. It’s more that, with people I don’t see daily, the evidence of their absence needs to fester for it to become real. I need to linger over the phone number absent-mindedly, go through a Christmas shopping list, before it becomes …