Today marks the one month anniversary of my dad’s death. I still can’t believe it. I miss him so much. This is one of my favorite pics of my old daddy! I think this was taken in 2004. My dad was 46 when I was born, which is 4 years younger than I am now. I also have 3 younger sisters, the youngest of which was born when he was 52. I can’t even imagine having kids at that age. He used to take us to the park and just sit and read his newspaper, which sometimes made me upset because all the young dads would be running around with their kids. BUT unlike the younger fathers he was much more interested in his kids as people, seemed like. Not necessarily more patient, but he liked to talk with us about things. One of my favorite childhood memories is that during dinnertime we all had to take a turn to speak and no one else was allowed to talk when you did. I have a bunch of siblings, a loud raucous and rowdy family, so I often felt unseen and unheard. But I knew that at least once a day, my father would look at me and listen.
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