“I suddenly remember being very little and being embraced by my father.

I would try to put my arms around my father’s waist, hug him back. I could never reach the whole way around the equator of his body; he was that much larger than life. Then one day, I could do it.

I held him, instead of him holding me, and all I wanted at that moment was to have it back the other way.”

― Jodi Picoult, Vanishing Acts