Two years ago I experienced my biggest heartbreak. I had to fly home, 16 hours away, to be with my family and to see my Dad for the last time. Well, I didn’t really see him because I never wanted my last memory of him to be that, I wanted my memory of him to be when he was alive and telling me stories of the places he’d seen, stories of honest people that he met and stories of the sleepless nights in a seastorm. Those were yesteryears.
We spent barely 15 years together. He was often away for work as I was growing up, I left when I was 21 for a new life with my family. I regret it a lot, that I could have been in touch with him more; just as he was to me when I was a child. I could have sent him more postcards and could have told him more stories as he did to me when I was child. I could have listened more and I shouldn’t have thought that Dads are supermen…
A post for Texture Lovin’. Photo textured with yesteryear.