Dear Dad…

Twenty eight years gone today. Always a bittersweet Valentine’s Day. Happpy that I’m alive to celebrate it with my Patti, but still hurting that my dad isn’t there to see that I have survived. So much left unsaid. You never saw me act, never met your granddaughter (my niece), never saw Philip promoted to Lt. at FDNY-EMS. You went int to the hospital to have an operation to save your life, which it did, but also gave you HIV via a transfusion. This is not irony, it’s tragedy of the first order. If it had only been six months later, this would not have happened.

Closure? No, I hate that term. I’ve never experienced it when it comes to this. I’ve come to terms with it, but I’ll never close the door regarding my feelings on this.

Love you, Dad. Myself, Philip and mom miss you…

Dad - Navy boot camp 1943


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