That’s my father in the middle, with a couple of travel companions on the ship that brought him from India to London. It was the 1960s, I wasn’t born yet, and he wasn’t married. Just a young man heading west, as I would decades later, from London to LA, at around the same age, too, about 29 or so. Who can explain these symmetries? Like history, families rhyme too.

Today, he turns 92, so I thought I’d post this piece I wrote several years ago about how we reconciled after decades of silence, on a strange trip to Las Vegas. We’ve had our problems, me and Dad, and still do—there are more chapters to our story. But at least we had this trip. It was a breakthrough. May you all reconnect with your parents before they pass.