Until Tomorrow

This Friday, just two days before Father’s Day, I will fly across the country in search of happiness and reunion with my beloved father.

I’m taking that risk.

My father is a lawyer, but not a yeller. When I was seventeen, I lied to his face. Back then, it didn’t matter, not really - to me, a teen. His rage was something of which I have never seen before or since.

“Only criminals tell lies.”

I have not lied since. Everything I say bleeds with truth; it’s how I’ve survived.

It’s how we’ve survived. There is nothing - nothing - I wouldn’t do for him.

When we meet the waves of the Cape on Father’s Day, I hope we are able to embrace each hit of ocean spray. Through my demented youth, we pulled through. We’ve changed, I’ve changed: daughters grow up and change.

What else is there, except a father? Except a truth-teller?