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A man with wispy graying hair stood on my doorstep; he worried a hat with his fingers. It was held in front of him as if to shield himself from an emotional blow. My eyes raked over him in disbelief. I was older now, and so was he. He was shorter than I remembered, the strain lines etching his face were deep and his blue eyes had faded. I’d put him through hell. When he opened his arms, I threw myself against his chest sobbing. “I love you, dad.”