So, I’m on a date with this guy. We’re walking to the train. I notice that it looks like it’s going to rain, but I tell him we should have plenty of time before it starts.
“It’s about to rain now,” he insists.
“How do you know?” I ask.
“I can just tell. I come from a long line of diviners.”
“A long line of what?”
This guy looks at me as if he’s puzzled. “You don’t know the word diviner?” he asks. “It means someone who can feel when something is coming.”
And then it started raining.
It used to be that whenever people talk about their “father wounds,” I would dismiss them immediately.
I never even knew my dad growing up, I’d think to myself. Folks should deal with their crap and move on; that’s what I did. At least, that’s what I thought I’d done. But the truth is, I’d never addressed my feelings about not having my father in my life. I’d never allowed myself time to consider whether I had a “father wound” of my own. …