![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Vi73yqWD6Vfj7vfWx1_j-E-GpVkPwsiK2Ubqisz6nYVAeUZnLPSY3XHaRFSucYqewrewSBfIT8WUPiPpo0JkXZawieq3nooahKpaSNPDBOxdjXOLRJrCeH6XyAWpbzS2MyjuMKwCaPqL/s400/springsnow+134.jpg)
My Papa is visiting me for 8 wonderfully, wacky and wild days. It is amazing to see the passage of time throw its gossamer gauze over my strong daddy's frame. I feel fortunate for every borrowed moment, each press of the hand and smile exchanged. And although he talks about rambling and inappropriate topics, like viagara, swine flu, dentures and the obnoxious misadventures of my rambunctious two year old, with a persistence that is surprising, I am so glad that he is my Dad and I am his little bird.
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