What does it matter in the course of a life-time if a father never tells a son what he
really thinks of him? But as I stood before Daniel, I knew that it does matter. My father
and I loved each other. Yet, I always regretted never hearing him put his feelings into
words and never having the memory of that moment. Now, I could feel my palms sweat and my
throat tighten. Why is it so hard to tell a son something from the heart? My mouth turned
dry, and I knew I would be able to get out only a few words clearly.
“Daniel," I said, "if I could have picked, I would have picked you."
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