…just before falling asleep. i smell his scent — leather and Bulgari pour Homme, ever so faintly tinged with Tanqueray and tonic. I miss you, Daddy. Why did you have to go so soon?
I get out of bed and look at the faded photo of my daddy. shit i miss him. i don’t know why i felt like putting this in my blog, but damn it hurts. at least once a day i still go to pick up the phone and call him and ask him how his day was.
perhaps i can find a telephone with enough MHz to reach the other side
janice j. cunningham 