I remember his smile, his tight curly hair.
He taught me to swim before I could walk.
Rides on trains, sunlit windows.
Beer with spaghetti. Sing alongs.
Buying puppies, even horned toads.
Scaring Mom, playfully.
All wrapped up with tight hugs and kisses.
My fond memories of Dad, who was taken away so, so young.
(December 29th was the anniversary of my Dad's death, who died when I was eight years old).
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