If you don't like the Blues

You have a hole in your Soul

 

 

 

 

                  

 

 

 

She is 15 and my little Indian Princess

This is an essay she wrote in 7th grade

My Fathers

I have one dad and one father. My dad lives in Iowa with me and my father lives somewhere in Texas or Oklahoma.

My dad has been there through it all. He’s been there through my good times and the bad. The weird and the calm.

My father hasn’t been there at all. He doesn’t know me and probably never ever will, but that doesn’t really bother. He’ll never know what my favorite food is or my favorite music is.

Dad has kept with me even when he could have given up. Most men would have run away a left without another word or thought but not him. But he stayed with this little brat.

The father who I don’t know left never to be heard from in a little over ten years. He gave his rights away. I guess he just wasn’t mature enough. And right now I don’t care if I ever meet him.

My dad almost never yells at me even though there are plenty of reasons to. I know in my heart and soul that he’ll be there my first break-up with my first boyfriend, prom, and to walk down the aisle at my wedding.

My father on the other hand probably won’t be there for my first break-up, prom, or my wedding. He’ll never have to deal with grounding me when I stay out past my curfew.

Those are my fathers. Except one is a dad who loves and the other is a guy who signed away his rights to my dad.

 

 

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