I smile every time I recall the last words I would ever utter to my father. It was three summers ago when, with suitcase in hand, I turned back to him from behind the security glass before stepping onto the tarmac at a remote Upper Michigan airport.
“I love you,” I mouthed.
Dad smiled, nodding his head, pleased and perhaps even comforted by my words.
“Oh! And you still owe me five bucks!”
BILL
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