Greed as a mask for grief. The argument over the vintage car isn’t about the car; it’s about who dad loved most. The fight over the family home is a fight over who belongs.
Business is personal. Every meeting, promotion, and parking space is a proxy for childhood wounds. Loyalty to the brand is loyalty to the parent who built it.
"I’m angry that you favored Margaret over me for forty years." Write: "Mom always said you had her eyes. I have her temper. Lucky me." (Then, they pour a drink with a shaking hand.)
The past is not past. The prodigal’s return forces the family to confront the event they’ve all agreed to forget. The real drama is not the prodigal’s behavior, but the family’s reaction.
Revenge vs. Duty. How do you care for someone who never cared for you? The drama is internal and external—the parent’s cruel lucid moments vs. their pathetic vulnerable ones.