I’m sorry, dad.


My dad and I, circa 1987.

We were on the subway in Boston, on our way home from a Red Sox game. I was less than a month away from 18, a few days away from going to college 6 hours from home and 3 states away. I was clutching a Red Sox pennant and a mug that I planned to bring to college, since I was leaving my beloved Boston. It was just my dad and I.

He was talking to me, and I wasn’t listening closely. I was, after all, almost 18 and despite the fact that we’d just enjoyed a great game together, there was still a part of me that didn’t want to hear what my parents had to say half the time. Okay, maybe most of the time. Anyway, dad was talking, I wasn’t listening, instead I was looking out the window. It was dark, and in the window I could see him looking at me while he spoke.

I tuned in towards the end to hear something along the lines of, “It seems like you were just going into kindergarten, and now you’re off to college”. And you know what I said? “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Yeah, yeah, I know.

I’d do anything to take those words back.

So I’m sorry, dad. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate your words back then, but if it means anything, I most definitely do now.


About Megg

I'm a 28 year old, newly married, newly living in Washington, librarian trying to find a job in a library. Meanwhile I'm working with kids and spend my afternoons playing Mancala and reading picture books. Come along for the journey as I share recipes, decoration ideas, photos, and hopefully gain some insight from the internet and fellow bloggers.

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