Before I left, I told Dad it was okay to let go and that he’d been a good dad. I don’t know if he heard me. I like to think he did. It’s been eight years. I know he’s still with me, but I miss him so much.
I offered to put his ingrown toenail clippings and his ear hair in a scrapbook for him to save for posterity, but he didn’t think that was necessary.