My Take On Turning Thirty-Eight

20130708-012435.jpgOn my 30th birthday I woke up and cried. Not because I was turning 30, but because I was entering a decade that my father would have no part of. He died when I was 22 and so he had seen a small part of my twenties. Entering my thirties meant starting a chapter that would be devoid of any semblance of his imprint.

I have another birthday coming this week.

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