We would sit near the window and watch the Earth surrender
to the rain.
He used to talk about the trees and the flowers and the
beauty of each rain drop.
I realize now, that those insignificant moments then, mean everything to me.
He loved the simple things in life.
He loved: the flowers and the trees, how a single rain drop
would cling to a piece of grass, the soothing sound of the rain, my company and
our relatable silence.
And on rainy days he loved me a little more.
And maybe that’s
why I love the rain so much too.
Miss you Dad.
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