When I was twenty-four years old,
one day out of the blue my mother
said to me, “You need to find your
father.”
“Why?” I asked. At that point I
hadn’t seen him in over ten years
and didn’t think I’d ever see him
again.
“Because he’s a piece of you,”
she said, “and if you don’t find him
you won’t find yourself.”
“I don’t need him for that,” I
said. “I know who I am.”
“It’s not about knowing who
you are. It’s about him knowing
who you are, and you knowing who