Here’s to you, Dad

Thirty-five years ago the phone rang, and my life changed forever. The words were a blur… snowstorm… shoveling… your father.. sleep… ambulance… come home…

Thirty-five years…. and so I honor him today with this haiku by Murakami Kijo:

First autumn morning:
the mirror I stare into
shows my father’s face.

I miss you, Dad.

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