"Eric, I'm afraid ... I'll never see my child ... or know my child ... as a man." His voice is scarcely above a whisper.
Silent Night from afar...
a faint moan
escapes his lips
A slanted ray of sunlight falls on the family bible by his bedside. Between the pages of Job, there is a photo of him standing on the Lech path. I remember his dimpled smile as he said, "I love the clear air in the Alps where I can air my often-tortured brain."
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