"My father never had respect for me growing up. He was a conventional, military, religious man. Everything was black and white - but I didn't fit his mold. We had no closeness; no attempt was made to try to understanding each other. And I can never remember him saying 'I love you'. We stopped talking for 45 years. I lived my life and he lived his. Time passed. He got old. He got sick. I decided to love him anyways and I took care of him in his final years. In the end he loved me - and told me so. I'm glad I didn't wait for him to come to me."