It's coming to eight years since my beloved mother's passing. Dad has been feeling bitter ever since he 'lost' Mom, to the point that it had affected my brother and me and our lifestyles and attitudes towards our social environments. This is the first time I am actually penning thoughts about this matter. There is no way that I can go into the details, other than expressing with much mutedness the longsuffering of being under such circumstance, which can only be experienced through a length of daily communion with my family at home. Of course, truly, God knows. Sometimes it feels as if this is viewed as an adapted, male-oriented version of the biblical story of Ruth (and Naomi), in this case of the mutual relationship between a widower and his remaining son in his immediate household. Also makes one wonder, especially with the cultural acceptance in our society regarding the softening of hearts towards widows and the barren; why, in contrast,...