My Father

Posted on 20 June 2010

A song for my Dad

A lot of people say that I’m the splitting image of my father. Rob says that I own some of his facial expressions. My mother says that, just like him, I don’t have a peaceful bone in my body. But it wasn’t until I was last home and we took a ride in his pickup truck to the dump and then shared a takeout order of french fries on a bench outside Canadian Tire, that I knew I was my father’s daughter.

Love you, Daddy


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