Jim

I reminded my mother today of the night we called the police at the request of a kid who used to bully our kids all the time.  He said his father was beating his mother.  "Call the cops, please.  Tell them it's Jim.  They know me."

I told the story slowly and, since this was a good day, she seemed to be following it and remembering things, to my amazement.  I was telling her that after that evening, I realized how badly Daddy had wanted a son and how his life might have been different if he had daughters.

When I finished she said "Is he still alive?"  I said "you mean my father?" and she said "No...the guy you're talking about."

owell.