On a quiet afternoon while sitting in my office at Stanford, I got an unexpected phone call from my daughter that changed my understanding of both my life and my field of study. This was no small deal. I was in my 60s, with enough years behind me—one would think—to know who I was and how I got that way; and I had been writing about human development for almost three decades.
How Exploring My Father’s Life Helped Me Understand My Own
