When I chose the tag #tonicmasculinity for this story, I was pleased with the wordplay in replacing “toxic” with “tonic,” and liked the implication of something restorative and rejuvenating. Today’s story fits that label better than most. This is Hasib. Hasib was my friend Stasa’s grandfather, a Muslim man who lived in what was then Yugoslavia. Describing him to me, Stasa wrote, “he passed away when I was six. I remember the last time I saw him he stopped by... Read more