Here's a look into my past: Today is December 11th. On June 11th, 2006 at 8:37 PM my father died. It is on the 11th of June and December that I take the time out of my day to remember my dad. Each of those days is another half of a year in which he's been gone. He died of a stroke. He was 57 years old. He was one of the wisest, smartest, funniest, persons I've ever known. And he was my very best friend. My father and I were very close. Its at a time like this where I wonder if he were still here, what would he say of me? If he just popped back into my life, would he be proud of me, would he be alright with where I am? But if he were alive this whole time, would I be the same man I am today? To these questions I will never have the answer. However, I think I'm okay with that. Perhaps it shouldn't be my dad's approval that I'm after. I'll never get it again after all. Perhaps I should start looking for my own approval.
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