The Groundskeeper Handed Me My Father’s Secret Instead of His Grave

death wasn’t the mystery.

It was only the beginning.

The Letter In My Father’s Hand

I knew my father’s handwriting the same way some people know a song from the first note.

Blocky capitals when he was in a hurry. A slight lean to the right when he was tired. The letter G always too big. The tail on his Ys cutting hard across the page like he was angry continue reading …