My father died May 29, 2006. It was a Monday — and, thus, Memorial Day. It was 11 years ago, yet I often ponder what he'd think of my life.pic.twitter.com/PU0dj3zLZq
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One of the last conversations we had, the last real conversation, was simple in a sense — but ultimately changed the trajectory of my life.
He told me to do something that I cared about with my life, something that was inspired by my passion, something that drove me to do better.
I do. It is. And I hope I always will have the humility to strive to do better.pic.twitter.com/4XrsQ7346u
He'd be proud, yes, but it's his little bits of wisdom—and the goofy dad-isms and subtle-but-needed ego checks—that I miss at key moments.
In any event, while I miss him — especially today — I'm so grateful for all that he did give me.
Thanks for the kindness, y'all. Much appreciated. I'm gonna get to sleep, tho, because it's a long week (& the start of a long month) ahead.
Night, all, and let us be good to one another — and ourselves.
Father-son relationships are tough. Sometimes it just gets better right at the end. Cherish that it did. You are doing work to be proud of.
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