A Suitcase of Promises: How I Sold My Father’s Hope for Peace

your mom. He’d hum. He’d watch birds and smile like he could still recognize beauty.”

Tears stung my eyes.

“And then there were days,” she continued, “when he was packed. He’d stand in the hallway with that suitcase like he was waiting for a bus. He’d get angry with staff. Not violent. Just… heartbroken.”

My stomach turned.

She folded her hands. “He would continue reading …