I was reading somebody's blog and I came to find out that she doesn't have a father anymore. And so she go about how she misses him and how he would put her to bed or watch the television together while laughing over some lame jokes they cracked. It got me thinking for a moment. It doesn't take my father to be gone, like REALLY GO, for me to miss him so much. He's right there, in front of my eyes, and only God knows how great, how much I miss him. =)I miss how he always compliments my milo.
I miss how he always gobbles down the maggi I cooked for him.
I miss how I would confiscate his cigarettes and not let him smoke.
I miss how he would jerk he's body while watching the television
pretending to be really sleepy and had slept.
And I hate it.
