I've been thinking about my father lately. We haven't spoken in over ten years, but it's nothing personal.
He died in 2003.
I wrote a short piece about our relationship for a reading next month. It's mostly finished but I've had so much going on in the last couple of months that I'm only just now getting around to revising it.
There are some laughs, but it's mostly serious.
In between packing up my belongings and thinking about my job interview, I need to stand in front of the mirror and perform the piece a few dozen times. There's a rehearsal on Thursday and I'd like it to feel a little tighter, a little more polished.
It's my dad. He's worth it.
|That's my pop on the right, seated beside his older brother, his father, and his half-sister.|