When I was in elementary school, my dad always threw* all of his spare change into the top drawer of his nightstand. At my school, we had a Fruitopia vending machine. Man, I loved that stuff. I loved it so much, I would sneak four quarters out of his change drawer every morning so I could get some with my lunch. I knew he would never notice because there was so much change in there and he never used it. A few years ago, he mentioned in passing that he always made sure there were enough quarters in there for me to take to school.
Dad. . . I keep thinking about, you even though it pains. I’d give anything to relive those memories again. I never knew that being fatherless would make me feel so powerless and helpless. I miss you, dad.
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