Tag: Father's Day

I remember Daddy holding my hand as we entered the gates to the botanical gardens, Wrigley's gum, Elephant Ear pastries, Matchbox cars, him carrying me when I was hurt, and scraping every speck of black pepper off my food. And bumper cars. I hated them, but I never told him because I liked to hear him laugh—and we were together. Daddy was pale and shaky...

“My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say ‘you’re tearing up the grass.’”