Dad was waiting at the dock. Arms folded, the chill wind rifling his steely hair, his jaw set.
Before I’d left, we’d had nothing but disagreement—each of us holding down the polar opposite on every issue. Somehow, I imagined that had changed while I was gone. He’d overcome every objection to technology and set his alarm for 2:00 am just so we could Skype twice a week. 6,500 miles between us and we had never seemed closer. But as I got close enough to read his face, I realized: we’d never been further apart.