Daddy

I still miss you. Not the old mean guy. That wonderful father of my youth. He of the picnic suppers at the beach, that superhero who cooked steak and chicken and played mandolin beside his kindling campfire. Told us the same ghost stories, we got the same spooky chills,  then we sang all the favorite songs….weekend after summer, year upon year.    Daddy?      Goddamit, I loved you.

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