Thoughts on Daddy
by Greg Wilburn
That final Tuesday morning was the last time I talked to Daddy. It was raining outside. Now, at the age of forty-three I still remember. I remember Daddy's grey eyes, the sad way they looked off in the distance when he talked to me. I always wanted to be like him, and I still do. The little boy inside of me never died, and he will always reflect on the love I had for Daddy.