work people rarely think about until their heat stops working.
Thanksgiving was supposed to be simple.
Turkey in the oven.
The good dishes on the table.
Football playing quietly in the background.
One of those family holidays where everyone agrees, at least for a few hours, to ignore the things that usually annoy them.
My father, Jack Dalton, is seventy-four.
He spent nearly fifty years working at the GM plant in Anderson.
Dad has never been the kind of man who constantly says how much he loves you.
He shows it differently.
If something breaks, he fixes it.
If you need help, he shows up.
My wife quietly took my father off our Thanksgiving guest list. When I asked why, she barely hesitated.
