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like a fire to me, burning with the fury of the greatest human spirit. And then he spoke, as though it was a lifetime earlier, and shook me to the very core of my soul with his words.

"I love you, too," he said. "I always have."

For whatever reason, for the first time since my arrival I heard a clock ticking in the background. It seemed to thunder in my ears as I sat there, stunned and shaken, trying to wrap my head around the magnitude of the moment. And just as what had just happened began to register fully, I saw him slipping back into the void of his shattered mind.

"No! Come back! Come back!" raced through my mind, but my pleading was too late. He got up from the chair, his hand sliding from mine and went toward the kitchen. This time I got up and lead him back to his chair. I sat with him in silence till my mother got back home.

The winter weather chased me back to Houston the next day. The clouds were no less dark, the trees were just as bare and lifeless.

But it was not the same drive as the drive up. I left the radio off and listened to the chilly wind howl around my car as I drove. I watched the ribbon of asphalt come at me and disappear behind like bad memories. And I carried with me a gift from my father, the man who had just given me everything I ever needed.

My hand was steady on the wheel.

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