I miss my dad. I find myself trying not to think about him because whenever I do, I’m sobbing. I know how very lucky and blessed I was to have him for so long… especially after his fall three years ago. Little did I know that the last time I saw him (in February, 2018) would be the last time I saw him.
I went into his room in the rehab hospital that last time, and held his face in my hands as he had held mine so many times before. I kissed him. I left the room and fell into my mother’s arms in the hallway, in tears.
I knew. I knew. I knew.
There’s a photo that I snapped of him. I don’t know why I took it exactly…
The nurse and I were helping Dad regain his footing. After his surgeries, he was a different…
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