He asked when can I meet you?

How about I deliver myself to you on my thirty-ninth birthday?

Chuckle. Then, he said…perfect.

Seems like forever ago when we walked up to each other for the very first time. He looked at me and I him. What I saw for the first time…my soul.

His arms were open and I walked right into them.

Miss you, Dad.


21 thoughts on “DAD…

  1. I’m tardy as usual but wasn’t tardy in admiring not only your prose but also your painting. I’ve admired both many times since you posted this. Pairing purples against yellows/golds is not an easy task; it’s easy to end up with mud, and not pretty mud – so I recommend that you advance to the head of the class young lady, and you’ve earned yourself a gold star!

    I saw the preview of the most recent posts and am about to load them and will enjoy them tonight…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Lisa, Always nice to see your smiling face! Gold star accepted. Labourious change of painting style. More workshops needed. Or just maybe more concentrated painting time. Not going to admit how many times I started and then…started over. I’m happy with this edition. xxR


      1. Sorry sorry sorry sorry..Mr. KANIGAN..holding a painting brush waaay too long and smelling oil base stain (refinishing kitchen cabinets)….mind mush. I misspelled your name. In fact I seemed to have blown it out of the water. Again, sorry sorry sorry. On the bright side: Kiki wrote me an email…thanks to you AND not to be excluded Sawson! Whispers of friendship across The Ocean. Wonders never cease! xR


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