In his deep tone, Dad introduced the waitress to Bobby. Turning to face the waitress, he told her, “This is my nephew.”
“It totally threw me for a loop when Dad made that statement,” Bobby told me. “Dad didn’t have the decency to let the waitress know I was his son. He called me his nephew. Sis, I was so speechless and hurt that I just didn’t say anything to him.”
When my brother shared this experience, I too felt the pain. Although I was Daddy’s girl, some things just can’t be excused. When Dad split from the family, we four eldest had grown and were nearing adulthood. Lyndia and Tommy were still tiny tots.
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