Image by Banjo Emerson Mathew
The old man’s decades of back-breaking labor in the fields, under the blazing sun, unrelenting cold, and driving rain had come to this. Following his wife’s death, when his son, his only child, was just three years old, he’d agonized through life to put him through school, all the way to medical school.
Someone had asked, ever so casually, what he was going to wear for the occasion. He hadn’t had the energy to respond. After all, what would have been a good answer for such a question? How do you dress for the day in which your son is going to hang?