Posts Tagged: father

Scales

“OK, now you’re not wearing a diaper, so when you have to go peepee, you have to tell us and we’ll run to the bathroom.” “Uh-huh,” he smiles while heavily breathing, because, frankly, he’s always breathing heavily. Thirteen seconds later.

Scales

“OK, now you’re not wearing a diaper, so when you have to go peepee, you have to tell us and we’ll run to the bathroom.” “Uh-huh,” he smiles while heavily breathing, because, frankly, he’s always breathing heavily. Thirteen seconds later.

The Mourning Before

When my mom called me on Halloween of 2011 to tell me that dad had died, I didn’t cry. I did feel the immediate hollow in my gut and the sense of sinking followed by pangs of hurt of guilt

The Mourning Before

When my mom called me on Halloween of 2011 to tell me that dad had died, I didn’t cry. I did feel the immediate hollow in my gut and the sense of sinking followed by pangs of hurt of guilt

Since the Last Time We Talked

**Note** I wrote this post in June of 2014; then I was talking about a 6-month-old baby. At the time I was a bit scared to publish it, but since then I’ve forgotten about it, rediscovered it, cleaned it up

Since the Last Time We Talked

**Note** I wrote this post in June of 2014; then I was talking about a 6-month-old baby. At the time I was a bit scared to publish it, but since then I’ve forgotten about it, rediscovered it, cleaned it up

The Day I Grew Up

I was ‘buddy’. Buddy was also my uncle’s old dog, but to my dad, I was buddy. “Buddy, go get your glove and let’s play catch.” “Buddy, you need to sweep the patio and pick up the dog pooh and

The Day I Grew Up

I was ‘buddy’. Buddy was also my uncle’s old dog, but to my dad, I was buddy. “Buddy, go get your glove and let’s play catch.” “Buddy, you need to sweep the patio and pick up the dog pooh and