Daddy
Two years ago today, I lost my daddy. I still feel the same hurt. I still haven't been able to wrap my mind around the fact that he's gone. They say to cherish all the moments you had and remember their joys and things like that, and I do, but I can't help but feel cheated. My daddy was supposed to grow old and move in with me and I was gonna take care of him. THAT was my plan, not this, not him dying at 55. My daddy was my guy. He was the parent I most identified with- the one I saw myself in. He was the one who made me feel like all was right with the world as long as he was around. He was flawed, but aren't we all? He would catch my tears in a cup and sing Temptations songs to me. He was strong and smart. He was handsome and charismatic. He told good stories. He became good stories. He visits me in my dreams often; sometimes they're warm and soothing and sometimes I want to stay asleep forever just to be with him. In the time since his passing, I've been