has a birthday today.
Yes, indeed. It is his 88th birthday. I wonder how Daddy would be, if he still walked this earth. My guess Dad would still charm the ladies, as he did the nurses during his hospital stays. The nurses would tell me how Dad would just talk and talk about me.
The picture here, during my spandex legging stage, with black Reeboks tennis shoes, was snapped sometime in the early 90's. Before diabetes grabbed hold of Dad and wrestled him down one too many times. Before the one time Dad's eye sight was robbed and his heart could no longer keep pace.
Daddy was my heart, and I was his life--his 'prettiest girl' he'd say.
My eyes water as I miss our times on that stoop, and Dad's cigar smoke tickles my nose. When I'd come back to Dallas, after am Iowa trip home and open my suitcase, all my clean clothes (which Dad usually folded!) smelled of his King Edward cigar. And I would smile.
To remember and savor that scent--one more time--just to know Daddy was near-
Makes me smile. .
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