The fight was forgiven, but never unsaid and never forgotten. For a while, I was proud to have spoken my mind, and then I thought I had been trying to protect him, and finally I admitted that I had just been upset because he seemed to have no idea who he was in a generational sense, and if that was anyone’s fault it was mine. If we could not have gone to Ethiopia, we could have talked about it. We could have been part of a community here, Tewahedo and afternoon tea. Burned by his mother and afraid, I think now, that our shared old friends would be kind to me, I had never made the attempt.