Yesterday, my son called Sweetums to wish him Happy Fathers Day. While they talked about things, I thought about my own father. He died so long ago. He died too young. My son never knew him or my 47 year old daughter. I was seven months pregnant when he died. I was living in California then,and couldn’t even go to his funeral. But, maybe, that’s best. I close my eyes and there he is. He’s got that bad little boy grin. His shirt sleeves are rolled to the elbow. He calls me “Princess”, “Angel”. He makes me feel like the most wonderful person in the world. All the trials and trepidations of the day have melted away and I am content.
Tags: Daddy
Up a Creek in Lower Slower Delaware 