Dirt bike. Sunshine. Camping.
I’m 2. He’s 32.
He’s squinting from the sun. I have a cheesy grin on my face. And oh dear god he’s wearing open-toed sandals on a motorcycle.
But look at me there. I look so small on that beast of a machine. But I also look brave and safe with my daddy near…
I wish he was near now.
Near enough to bring me in for a side hug.
Near enough to tell me I’m going to be okay.
Near enough to feel his kiss on my forehead.
But he’s not. And it sucks.
I miss you Dad.