I always think about my father.
I always speak to him, about him and for him. I am my father’s daughter in all aspects —I look like him, think like him, sometimes act and feel like him.
Cain and Abel must feel the same way, but they probably did it with a jockstrap-beefcake type of attitude. Mine is a tad gentler, the way my father loved us with that covert, gentle way kept hidden amongst all dimensions of his strong character.
My daughter and I always wait for him, and his memory unhampered by death continues to move this family in inspiring ways.
Has anybody inspired you this much?