Chapter 17 - The House Patricia Never Bought
Two years after Dad’s death, I drove past the $600,000 house Patricia had wanted.
A family lived there now.
Children’s bicycles lay in the driveway.
Someone had planted sunflowers beside the mailbox.
I pulled over.
For months that house had symbolized greed.
Now it was simply somebody’s home.
I realized how much power I had given objects.
The house had never betrayed me.
Money hadn’t betrayed me.
A signature hadn’t betrayed me.
People had made choices.
That distinction freed me.
I drove away without looking back.
That evening Daniel cooked dinner at Dad’s little brick house.
May you like
He burned the garlic bread.
Dad would have liked him.
