The little things.

My dad died when I was 48. For my entire adult life, every time I would call his phone, it would go the same way:

Him: Hello?
Me: Hey Daddy.
Him: Hello, son.

Every. Single. Time.

It’s the little things you miss.


Discover more from Hugh's Blog

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Discover more from Hugh's Blog

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading