The Hand Of My Father

Holding the hand of the best dad I could ever have. He’s not well but he is working on getting better. I love him so much.

(Please do not reblog, thanks.)

6 thoughts on “The Hand Of My Father”

  1. My best foster dad lived with me for his last couple of years. He said he didn’t want to be “a burden” to us, but I promised to put him to work.

    “What kind of work do you think I can do?” he asked.

    “Your grandkids need a lap to sit in, and they need to hear about what life was like before nuclear power, TV, Internet, and space travel. Oh, and their dad still needs some wisdom and advice about life. Don’t worry, Papa, I’ll put you to work and you’ll earn your living just like you always have.”

    And so he did, right to the end.

    Prayers up for you both, Tony.

    Like

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.