When my father passed away five years ago, my Mother crumbled as did the world around her. She couldn’t bear to go to the hospital one more time and left it up to me, their only child, to bid farewell to Dad.
After I left my father’s hospital room that night, a nurse handed me a brown paper bag. In it was my father’s watch, his wedding band and his wallet. Overwhelmed, I had to sit down and gather my wits about me.
I slipped on his ring and watch, and opened his wallet. A few credit cards, his driver’s license, some coins, a couple of notes and, tucked into one pocket, I pulled out a well-worn newspaper article about me, aged 8, winning a local dance competition. The headline read, “Dancing Danuta gathers all the prizes.”
Dad had carried that clipping on him for 45 years, a testimonial of his love and pride in me.
Happy Father’s Day…
your Dancing Danusia
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What a touching post, Danusia. How he must have loved you. xx
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