Remembering My Father

A beautiful post through which a daughter honors her father.

The Life is not an immune

No, today is not a special day to remember him. But my father’s memories have overwhelmed me. It doesn’t matter how old we are. We often miss our parents. There is no age limit when it comes to the relationship between children and parents. I was not as lucky as any other child to have an opportunity to meet my father every day. I don’t remember, but my mother often told me that my father used a cotton swab to feed me milk because I could not suck on the bottle due to weakness. I lived with my father in the valley for the first five years of my life. When my father moved to Russia, my mother took me back to my ancestral home. I still remember the house on the hill, which had some apple trees in the backyard. My dad often picked me up on his shoulders…

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