It's one of those showers that make you think you should write a check to several environmental groups – and maybe plant a tree.

I can’t dwell on tomorrow any more than I can dwell on yesterday.

He says nothing. Not because he disagrees, or disapproves, but because he’s crying. Faintly I hear my father sniffling and wiping away tears, and I know he’s proud, just incapable of expressing it. I can’t fault the man for not knowing how to say what’s in his heart. It’s the family curse.