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My father, on his deathbed, asked if I had any regrets about our relationship. The cancer had taken most of his voice, so all he could do was whisper, “Regrets?” I tossed my head back and laughed. I said, “Oh, my God, Dad.” I laughed again. I did not, and do not, have regrets. Well, I suppose I regret that I cannot put this scene in a story because it is a cliché.
…some skeletal remains initially thought to be single bodies were actually two people fused together by searing temperatures. —cnn, February 12, 2009 There are always bodies to discover at each …
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