An old homily from 1996, in full here.
A snippet:
But even as a small child, I’d wondered about loyalty and love.
I recall mornings long ago in California, full of citrus and peach-fuzz and school-bus diesel, mornings already warm when Dad’d clop wing-tipped through Mom's sweet flurry of goodbye chatter to rev up the Chevy, while my brother and I trotted school-bound beside him until the station-wagon honked out of sight.
But I recall with equal clarity, real divorce and real rancor, and my brother and I whispering before falling to sleep:
“Who should we love, Mom or Dad?”
“Who should we live with, Mom or Dad?”
I recall mornings long ago in California, full of citrus and peach-fuzz and school-bus diesel, mornings already warm when Dad’d clop wing-tipped through Mom's sweet flurry of goodbye chatter to rev up the Chevy, while my brother and I trotted school-bound beside him until the station-wagon honked out of sight.
But I recall with equal clarity, real divorce and real rancor, and my brother and I whispering before falling to sleep:
“Who should we love, Mom or Dad?”
“Who should we live with, Mom or Dad?”
