Parity is the word we use in our family when the evening outdoor temperature finally reaches the indoor one, and we can turn off the air conditioner and open the doors and windows.

This week parity was the word I thought of when my father and stepmother had their final divorce reconciling in court.  My father “won” and my stepmother “lost” and there was a bit of gloating and bit of resignation and relief.  But I’m wrong, there is no parity.  How do we place a value on the lifetime of hurt he’s given us?   Will he ever know?  Is this just a slap in the face reminder of the need for forgiveness and moving on?