those lost years? Why even try? How does one sit by one's biological father's bedside, this complete stranger, and find a way to forgive him? Love him?"Lynnie [Gobeille] sat next to the dying doctor, sipping a cup of coffee while he spoke to her of nothing, of everything. Not knowing quite what to say or how to frame his feelings in language, he rambled on, at one point going into a lengthy discussion of how he made his own bread, and how he had grown and picked his own grapes.
from Tom Chandler: The Providence Journal: Verses grew out of the experience of facing the death of one's own father
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