My old man.
It is a heartache of mine that I love this man SO much and have seen him so little in my thirty-four years. His weathered face and broad carpenter hands fill my heart with a belonging that I don't have words to explain. When I am with him, I drink like a hummingbird greedily sips nectar. I am grateful for the man that is my Papa.
Who never forgets how to be a kid,
and always remembers to make me laugh. He is my Dad.
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