I wanted to find something poetic or important to say, something worthy of my final chance to talk to my dad. “My dad would know the answer to this,” I blurted in an editorial meeting a few months after his death. “But I can’t ask.”Advertisement AdvertisementAdvertisementI was trying for jovial, but the words sucked the air from the room. In the world of those words — You never get over something this big — I was broken, irreversibly, by something I’d had no hope of controlling. And whatever complicated feelings I have about their choice of words, I’m thankful for that.
