Papa

I miss you so. Sometimes I get flashes of a memory to remind me of what a great dad you were to me, the little girl who wasn’t even yours.

In the 6th grade you took me to school, it was winter and icy. I had to carry my clarinet to school for practice. I stepped out of the car, an embarrassing old car, one of your many automobile purchases, I slipped on the ice and fell…hard. I was crying, I had hurt my wrist if I remember correctly. You just put the car in park and ran to me, scooped me up and carried me into the school nurse’s office, leaving the car running in the drop off lane. I remember someone yelled at you “you can’t leave your car there!” You didn’t even flinch at them. I cried about my clarinet, I had dropped it. You ran back outside to get it for me and came right back to my side.

I miss you papa.
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