"Are you bad, dad?"
It's always a hard day.
Visiting her mother.
My wife.
I think it will get easier.
It never does.
Our bouquet is important. Angelica, Apple blossoms, and Bay Trees.
The wind and the rain loom over us.
But not yet.
We lay the bouquet down and I take my daughter's hand.
"Dad?" she asked.
"What's up kiddo?" I said.
"The kids at school say you are a bad man," she said.
I knelt down and looked her right in the eyes "They are right, I am a bad man and I have done bad things," and hugged her and told her this:
"You aren't a bad thing, you are the best kid ever. You are everything good about me, you are all the good I've ever done, you are a good person, with a whole heart and spirit. You are my child and whatever happens? I'm here. I'm your dad. Okay?"
Her whole body shook and she fell into me.
I didn't know. How could I know? How much I loved my child. How much I wanted a better tomorrow for her.
How much was I willing to give.
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