As I watched the televised opening ceremony for The Obama Presidential Center, my soul smiled. There was a magical nostalgia that brought tears to my eyes. I was reminded of the composure in his voice, as it was with my own father Woodie (who died when I was in my twenties. His long suffering from cancer, called the black lung, forced a painful death at the age of 52). I miss my father, and to be honest, I’m always amazed by adults who still have a father but seem to take for granted that he’ll always be around to ask, “How are you doing?” Continue reading →