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August 29, 2003
So he’s yelling and screaming; calling me names, saying I screwed something up of his, not sure what at this point, but I’m not allowed to say anything back to him. I’ve learned just to keep saying “yes” “uh-huh” and go on; don’t argue. Maybe it’s the glaucoma, maybe it’s just old age seeping in along with a low tolerance for most things in life. So at the end of all this, he asked me if I loved him; I could hear tears in his voice, and suddenly my pain meant nothing compared to his; “Yes, dad. I love you.”