I’ve seen my dad cry three times in my life.
Okay, maybe I have no idea how many times I’ve seen him cry but it hasn’t been many times.
This morning my brother left to move to Texas.
That makes four times.
I can count the number of times my dad cried too! Two…once when I was leaving for college and once when he was leaving us to go to Chicago. Perhaps one other time I can’t write about here.
I don’t think I’ve seen my dad cry at all. I used to be able to count the number of times he’d hugged me. The first time was when, at 17, I left for a year abroad. It was an awkward hug.Since I’ve lived on the West Coast and only see them once a year, I get a hug every time I leave now.
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