The The Valley of the Giants.

The Valley of the Giants.

More than 40 years ago, right at 50, really,

I did a thing that no one in my family ever knew about and

would not have approved if they had found out. I have kept the secret all these

years because it is my intention not to hurt in any way those I cared about.

Telling of what I knew would have dredged up bad feelings and opened old wounds and I would not do that. I'm early into my 60s now and no one remains but me.

And while I feel strange for doing this, I'm glad I finally got to be able to tell this without anyone being bothered.

As you have probably already guessed, life was confusing and complicated for me when I was growing

up. And while I cared deeply for those in my family,

I have to admit to a peculiar sense of relief

that I felt when I laid to rest the last remaining member of my family besides myself.

I do not count my wife among those because she has known the secret for quite a while now

and is sworn to keep silent until I no longer do.

I guess she can do as she likes, but now I'm finally going to tell of what I know.

My father was a good man, a good man as I ever met, and I'm not being biased just because he was my father.

All those I knew throughout my life thought the same way because I heard them say the same thing repeatedly.

He worked hard and provided for us and was honest in all things and was a devoted husband. He was steadfast when my brother was taken from us in an automobile accident.

And when my mother was losing her health battle,

he was by her side from the diagnosis until we laid her to rest, but he was not perfect.

I never saw him display anger or hatred toward anyone aside from one person, and he carried that bitterness inside him every day that I knew him.

There was one person my father could not tolerate for a reason that I will never understand completely, and that man happened to be my grandfather, my father's father.

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