“He looks just his father…”
“I hope those boys will be OK…”
“It’s a shame they will grow up without their father in their lives…”
They talked about me, but not to me. It was like I wasn’t there. I was as absent from that room as Dad was.
“He was gone way too soon…”
“Such a shame. He had so much promise…”
“He had his whole life ahead of him…”
They didn’t talk about how Dad died. I didn’t dare say a word, even though I was the first to find him.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish
Comment on this Bubble
Your comment and a link to this bubble will also appear in your Facebook feed.