November 7th
This is always a sad date for me, since it's the anniversary of my Dad's death. He died suddenly in 1982, when I was just nineteen. My youngest sister was only a year old at the time. And my father was only 45, just the age I am now.
That is a very strange thought.
Today I read over some poems I wrote in the months after his death, and they still made me cry.
1 Comments:
My sympathies, Sherry. And you're right, 45 is too young...much too young.
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