His attitude didn’t soften as we grew into adulthood and drifted away to jobs or college. There was a period of time when none of us had a car, so we had to ride the bus whenever we came home. Though the bus stopped about two miles from home, Dad never met us, even in inclement weather. If someone grumbled2 (and my brothers grumbled a lot), he’d say in his loudest father-voice,“That’s what your legs are for！”
So when I went away to college, I knew I was in for a long walk whenever I came home. The walk didn’t bother me as much as the fear of walking alone along the highway and country roads. I also felt less than valued that my father didn’t seem concerned about my safety. That feeling was canceled one spring evening.
It had been a particularly difficult week at college. Tests and long hours in labs had left me exhausted. I longed for3 home and a soft bed. As other students were met at their stops, I gazed wistfully out of the window. Finally, the bus shuddered to a stop at my destination point, and I stepped off, lugging my suitcase to begin the long trek home