He wasn't much of a fighter either. I mean, we lived with Dad. Dad was maybe five two, and had the red hair of your typical Irishman. He loved to play...up his heritage and that seemed to come with a quick temper. Father loved to brawl. It was never personal and I don't think he really tried to hurt anyone, but it seemed like he came home with bruises once a month. Mom just shook her head and took him back to the bedroom for some care.I just had a thought, perhaps the reason Dad came home bruised. " I called her up and rather cried to her over the phone. She had me come over right away, and bring all our e-mails." Go on."Frank looked interested as well now. It seemed he hadn't heard this part of the tale before."She sat me down, handed me some wine, and looked them over. Then she told me a devastating truth: 'You're trying to continue this conversation, and he isn't.'" She could tell that from just a few e-mails?" Christy asked incredulously."She did," Allie confirmed. "And I bet all. More

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