I recently came across something I wrote a year after my dad died. It was about his own friend dying many years earlier, and I had to be the one to tell him.
Discovered the story again, and it still kicks me in the gut, but maybe, I thought, it was because it was my dad, our story.
So I sent it to an editor to consider for publication, and Purple Clover bought it and published on Father’s Day.
A long time ago, I had to tell my Dad his buddy died, and his jovial response surprised me. Until years later, I was jealous, and wondered if he was too.
Read it here, at Purple Clover, whom I am grateful thought this was a story worth telling.
Thanks for reading and sharing, even when I’m not so funny.