Two years ago, my brother and my father got in a huge fight about my brother wanting to be an artist. My father forced him to go to business school, and my brother agreed, tired of arguing.
Six months ago, my brother dropped out of school, miserable and afraid of what my father would say. My brother turned back to his art, and it got him through the depression that had set in.
My father found his sketches and said nothing.
Yesterday, my father came back from a business trip with gifts for each of us. He bought my brother a new sketchbook and pencil set.
Sometimes things get better, guys.