The relationship between my father and I can be characterized as tense at the best of times. I have no wish to imply that I don’t love my dad, I do. They older I get however the less the two of us seem to be able to communicate effectively. I sometimes feel as though we are both standing on opposite sides of the Grand Canyon and trying to shout across it to each other. In spite of the seemingly ever widening rift between us I admit that dad taught me what I am fast coming to believe it is probably the most important lesson of my life up until this point. Pain is just a thing, it too shall pass. Fear makes a painful situation even more painful. When I broke my legs I wasn’t hysterical. I didn’t cry. I calmly explained what had happened and the probable result as far as I can ascertain, much to the amazement of the ambulance crew and the hospital staff. I can distance myself from a situation in which I have been hurt to find out just how badly the damage will affect me. I owe my dad for that skill no matter how much we may disagree now that I’m older.