When I began to write in earnest, I wrote a poem called My Daddy Died. I tried to imagine what I would feel when that day came. The poem was published and I sent it to my daddy. Years later my dad called me from the hospital some 2400 miles from where I lived. He told me goodbye and that he loved me. I realized then that I could never have imagined how I’d feel when my daddy died. You see, he was a very special friend and I adored him.

Advertisements