2 thoughts on ““How’s It Goin’ Dad?”

  1. My father was a man of few words. Richly so. His facial features and bodily eloquence were novels and uni-word-kus. That I finally got “I love you,” out his sorry carcass just two days before he died amazes me still. Of my two brothers I may be the only one who remembers them jitterbugging and much later in life actually holding hands as the drove their twin rocking chars on the back porch, chattering away like teenage magpies on a telephone line. Sometimes you just gotta outwait the silence, Mizz Yasmin, yer Ladyship!


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