Thursday, August 21, 2014

Again


I wonder what my kids think of me.  Maybe they haven’t really – I don’t remember thinking about my Dad. He just was.


A realization that feels like a soft hollowing out of my chest:  I’m starting to forget (about) him. My Dad. It is so much worse than remembering him in his absence. I’m not forgetting what I need and I’m not forgetting what I want and everything I’m forgetting, I’m becoming.

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