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RE: A Speck of Mandarin: Why I'm Reading Again

Ohhh sorry.

I loved the Plague. It's been years since I read it but I remember him standing at a balcony or window looking onto world with utter despair. It shaped my love of Apocalypses, hah!

Who would have thought a tiny orange speck could undo me. On the last conversation I had with Dad, which was perfect but never enough and often thought about, he was eating blueberry and strawberry - just a couple. He slid the bowl toward me in the long tradition of fatherly affection shown through the offering of food, though he was a day or two off dying then. All his being was Father in that moment. The shared laugh as he dropped a berry on his lap. Asking me how the surf was. Saying he was good, when he wasn't.

The speck of mandarin was the last remnant of all that.

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You will find more remnants of his fatherly love, some in memories, now and then a whiff of something, or the sun hitting a wave just so. May these be many.

Thankyou! Today it was in ordering a new custom longboard - it has a dog on the logo and he would have loved that, let alone the longboard!

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