Read article at https://comment.org/death-and-forgiveness/

In January of 2018, I took a plane to Albuquerque to sit in a hospital with my dying father. To say my dad and I weren’t close is an understatement: we had cut ties when I was twelve, and rebuilt them for a time in my early twenties only to have them quickly fall apart again. His life had since become a mystery to me. I knew, however, that heart problems had kept him in and out of the hospital for years, and despite several surgical interventions his health had long been in decline. So when the call came from S., his girlfriend of nearly two decades who hadn’t spoken to me since I was a preteen, I wasn’t exactly surprised. That she called at all meant things were serious. I took a brief leave from my obligations and packed my bags for New Mexico…………..