I lost my dad. He died on New Year’s Eve. I miss him every day. It happened so very fast. I can still hear his voice. I miss him always trying to feed me. I wish we could just sit and talk about anything–even if it means he ends up being right. I keep expecting him to get out of his chair and give me a kiss every time I go to the house. I wish I could have known him when he was younger. I wish I appreciated him more when I was growing up. I wish he would…
Ah, the bees. Just to start off, let me state that there were lots of bees. So many bees that I was put in agonizing position of feeling gut-wrenching, terrorizing fear for the first time in my life. But I had someone watching over me and my younger sister (who was just as frantically frightened as I was) who basically, in the span of two hours, cemented himself as my forever protector and “The Man Who Could Live through Anything!” I am speaking of my dad, the person without whom this entire story could never be written because he was…
a funny thing happened when I was learning myself 