But I didn’t want you there because it looked good. I wanted you there because you were my father and it was the biggest day of my life. That’s the part you’ve never once understood. I wasn’t inviting you to an event. I was asking you to see me. One time. And you couldn’t, because you’d already decided the daughter worth seeing was the one posing with my invitation.
You shoved me into the rain this morning, Dad. You called me an embarrassment four hours ago. And now that a room full of generals has stood up for me, you suddenly can’t understand why I didn’t tell you.
