I’ve been missing my dad a lot today. It’s Sunday. I miss talking to my dad on Sundays. Not that we ever had much to say, which is funny because we had a lot in common. Too much. So much it scares me. So much that it inspires me to clean out my closet, and take things to the Goodwill, which I did yesterday. Still more to go, I might add.
It’s funny, I totally remember that day, the way the crispy Fall air tasted like apple cider, and caramel. I remember those overalls. I loved them. And that red sweater with a hood was soft.
And me and my Dad were ok. Not perfect, missed my mom, but we were ok.
Jean Berg took the picture. She was cool. I always wished my Dad had married her.