Tag: personal essays

As a boy, I got into the habit of watching my father eat. Our dinner table was round, and, on the nights when it was all of us, four kids and two parents, my mother and father would sit on one side and I would sit directly across from them. The meal was mostly silent, save for the symphony of metal forks or spoons and my father, the lone vocalist, mumbling or moaning through bites. Even before a meal, he