I still see you. I see your grin, your hands, the sassy twinkle in your blue eyes; all these twenty seven years and four children (and one neverending bloody mortgage) later, you’re still there. I see you. But more than seeing that funny, kind, strong young man I married? I see the man you have become. Of course I watched you hold your tiny babies, mash their bananas, pretend to be Mrs Goggins, promise to turn the wind down, and tell stories of a three-legged owl. I have watched you endlessly fret over them (who knew you’d be the worrier?).But more than that. Across the years, I see the father...