It’s hard to imagine that it’s already been a year. A year since my dad’s passing. As I sit here writing this a whole week ahead of the events that happened a year ago, I see the signs, the memorable -or maybe not so memorable- but etched in my mind as the most important things we did together. The things we ate, the things we watched, listened to and laughed about. His smell of cigarettes and mint candy, the roughness of his coarse beard, yet the softness of his now-clipped hair. His laugh and his unique way of ringing my doorbell.They all seem so distant, yet so close to my heart.
Papa, wo ai ni. Wo hen xiang ni.
