No birthday calls.
For years I convinced myself he deserved it.
That whatever crime had landed him behind bars must have been terrible enough to erase him from our family.
So when a law firm from Kansas City called me one cold February morning to inform me that my father had died in prison and had left something behind for me in his will, my first instinct was to refuse.
“I think you’ve got the wrong person,” I told the woman on the phone.