Saturday, December 08, 2012

I am my father's daughter.

Have the thought of being adopted ever came to you? You may have thought about it seriously or it may have only been a random thought in your head while in the shower or while doing the dishes. But then a moment comes and you'll say to yourself "No, I am definitely his/hers."

I had that moment last summer. It was a still morning. My dad and I were in the dining area, each with a hot cup of coffee and a coffee spoon. I was lost in oblivion, staring blankly at whatever it was I laid my eyes on. I was mindlessly stirring my hot coffee and occasionally, I would spoon a coffee and pour it back on my cup. I did this repeatedly. When I realized that my coffee wasn't that hot anymore, I snapped back into reality and looked at my father who was sitting next to me. He was apparently still lost in his own world. He was spooning his coffee and was keenly watching the coffee pour like I did.

No comments:

Post a Comment


This blog contains writings, musings and other distractions from the desk of Michelle B.