From One Father to the Next

From One Father to the Next

Since my father passed away I find myself thinking of him daily. Sure I have his obituary hanging on my fridge; a stark reminder that he’s no longer a phone call or short drive away. He is the furthest away anyone can possibly be from anther person. But I don’t need that photo of him and that brief snippet, which painfully encapsulates his life in one short paragraph of near meaninglessness, to remind me that he is dead and gone. Continue reading From One Father to the Next