Tom Painting
Term Limits
By age 53 he was a wreck. The drinking, the smoking, parking himself in front of the tv and ignoring the woman in the next room. It was no surprise when he keeled one night while making his way to bed. If a son can sit in judgment of his father, I abstain. He put food on the table, a roof over our heads; taught me how to fish and surrender my seat on a crowded bus. I vowed I’d never follow in his footsteps, but then again. He was in many ways headed in the right direction, but simply lost his stride.
up-country
roadside chicory
blues the way
About the Author
Tom Painting teaches junior high humanities at The Paideia School in Atlanta, Georgia. He facilitates a student bird club and is an associate editor for The Heron’s Nest.