PREVIOUSLY :
All of a sudden we were moving . Dad came to visit a few times , which was great , but our Saturdays were no more . It was too far and too hard to see him often .
He’s moods grew darker , our interactions tinged with the kind of pressure an 8 year old can’t understand , let alone respond to .
Father’s Day 1988 was the last time I spoke with him . We had gone out for breakfast with my stepdad . Unfortunately , Dad had to be at a coal mine for work by lunchtime and it was a four-hour drive from his house . By the time I called, he had left .
When the phone rang that evening , I knew it would be him . I raced to the phone and answered it , expecting to hear his familiar voice and smile down the line . But it wasn’t . It was angry . And loud . He shouted so much . I had to pas
