Dad’s birthday is coming up. January 18th. I can’t believe it going to be his second birthday gone. Time is passing so quickly.
Mark drove Dad’s pick up around a few days and it seemed weird to see it parked in our driveway. I caught myself glancing up at it and remembering Dad sitting out there, cigarette in hand, waiting for the boys to come out, waiting for us to see him and come outside and visit with him, all the while smoking one of his “little friends“.
In reality when I think of Dad, I think of cigarettes. The two go hand in hand. The smell, the sight, I can’t think of him without those damn cancer sticks.