“The death of a parent, he says to it, is a profoundly lifealtering experience, isn’t it? When I was a child, I often had this feeling of God’s in his Heaven: All’s right with the world – that’s Robert Browning. An English poet. But ever since my father died in the last war, I’ve awakened each morning knowing that I’ll never again feel that absolute security. Nothing is ever quite right, is it, after a parent dies? No matter how well things go, something always feels slightly off...”
