The Letter

I feel compelled to write today about my dad. Not just because of Father’s Day, or because his birthday is around the corner, but because it is in my heart and mind today to do so. I was always a “daddy’s girl.” I had to sit with my dad in the same chair every morning or I would actually feel sick to my stomach. He didn’t really have a lot of time for me, for I was one of six children, and he was trying to run a business to make a living. So this was our special time, just him and me. He would read the paper and occasionally rub my leg or arm to let me know that he was there. As I grew older, and grew bigger, we could no longer fit in that recliner, and the times sitting alone with father ended. I saw a picture one day, long ago, of...