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Since their guest room shares a wall with the kitchen, I awoke to the sounds of Dad banging things around in an attempt at breakfast.
It seems he's been cooking more, and even my mother ,who reserves her praise unless things are truly phenomenal, says he's getting "better." So, I jumped in as his sous-chef and we made an omelet, hash browns, and some of my mom's sour dough rolls.
Now, it isn't much to look at, but my dad and I have had some carefully guarded distance over the past few years and this little meal... I think it's the beginning of better times to come. Sigh. I like breakfast.