“I hate crowded areas,” he grumbles, whenever I suggest it. He’s not at all impressed when I tell him about the guy in the power wheelchair who always hangs out by the Trader Joe’s in Coolidge Corner. But there’s a farmer’s market going on and I haven’t been there in ages....
It seems like everything he’s ever said to me takes on a new meaning. For instance, I remember one summer when we were thirteen, our parents decided to take our families on a group trip to a large amusement park. Now, you have to understand something, and I say this with a...