I can only infer my parents loved each other once. Rather than warmth or anything wholesome, my parents’ marriage was characterized by submission to my dad’s oppressive authority. He was hard as flint but just as brittle—prone to mood swings and brooding anger. The rest of the family adopted strategies of avoidance or appeasement when my dad’s inscrutable gloom pressed upon us. Displays of affection were stereotypically rare in my family. I don’t remember a time I felt the same tenderness toward my parents as I did for halmeoni. I loved my dad in the sense I feared and obeyed…

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