People don't set out to fail. Sometimes failure happens spectacularly with plenty of notorious attention. Other times, it comes quietly, almost with a sigh of relief. When my wife asked me for a divorce hours after my father's funeral, only the timing was a surprise. I believed the failure of my marriage from beginning to end, along with heartache it caused, especially to my father, was unredeemable.

I was wrong.

My father was one of the finest men I ever knew. He left me a great example and a cherished legacy, one I couldn't run from, no matter how ashamed I was to face it.

Every step I took brought more trouble, though. In those months after my father died, my uncle Nolan helped me discover I needed to make peace with a lot more than Phil Shannon's memory. So I did what any prodigal would do.

I decided to go home.

Deciding to go is one thing. Getting there is another matter.