You got me on this one. My Dad died nearly fifty years ago and I still miss him. I have buried several "replacement" fathers since. We do bury them all.
This really hit me. I'm a 52 year old woman still lonely for my father who died at 62. Perhaps I miss him so much because you never really get that kind of unconditional love from anyone else.
You got me on this one. My Dad died nearly fifty years ago and I still miss him. I have buried several "replacement" fathers since. We do bury them all.
Steve, yes, we end up losing all our fathers.
This really hit me. I'm a 52 year old woman still lonely for my father who died at 62. Perhaps I miss him so much because you never really get that kind of unconditional love from anyone else.
Ah, Kelly, thank you for sharing a bit of your story. The everpresent grief.
Mother exchanged, hits home, Sherman.
Thank you, Alaina. Love to you all.
My phone is spell-correcting your name to Alaina! I don’t know an Alaina! Alaine.
I figured—I get it all the time🙄😉. ❤️
Beautiful and touching! I love the raining in the poem.
Thank you
I love the rain in Seattle. The increasingly hotter summers are killing me. My father passed away a year ago at age 82.
My condolences. The summers are getting worse.
Oof, this wrecked me. Thank you.
Thank you so much.
I once killed a man
In my tavern
It took years
The roof leaked
And the lightbulb over the bar
Over his head
Dripped
His name was Frenchy
I tried to fix it
I hear his laugh
But he's gone
No wonder
believing both rain and father is available out there
Yes…