I stared at my daughter in disbelief.
“What are you talking about?”
“For years, you refused to go to the beach, avoided having your picture taken, and stayed away from family gatherings. You kept saying you were too fat and that nobody would want to see you looking like that.”
One memory after another came rushing back.
Once, Thomas had suggested we take a trip to Hawaii together.
I refused.
Another time, our children invited us to have a family portrait taken.
Again, I refused.
I always said I would have my picture taken after I lost weight.
But that day never came.
Michael continued.
“Dad’s greatest fear was that after he died, you would stop living altogether.”
I looked at Daniel.
His eyes were filling with tears.
“Thomas and I spent several weeks in the same hospital department,” he said. “I was exhausted after a major operation. I could barely walk. I thought I would never get my old life back.”
