...in my purse since I broke it.
I wear his ring on my necklace.
I call the refs “blue” because he always did.
I keep his note in my wallet.
I leave his picture by my bed.
I am scared to talk to him…
I don’t really know what I am doing with this blog. Well, let me rephrase that. I know what I am doing – writing a travel blog – I also know what I wish I was doing – writing a blog full of meaning, a blog with my most inspired, passionate thoughts. Is it too late to change it up a bit?
I thought writing to my Dad might satisfy that yearning, but it has just ended up feeling a bit contrived. I hope you (if there are any of you) will bear with me as I try to shape this journal/diary/log/chronicle/record/communication tool into what I require these days.
I love reading your blog! It's so sincere (not contrived) because it's coming from a real place.
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