I can't remember a time growing up when you weren't there.
I can't remember a time when we didn't go fishing.
When I went away to college, you came to visit and we established
our yearly ritual of going fishing for Father's Day.
When I got accepted to medical school, I still came home
every June just so we could spend the day together.
You died in May during my Intern year,
just a month before our next scheduled trip.
I miss standing at the rail of a boat, heading out to sea,
excited about the day.
I miss the boasting and competition about
who's catching the first fish,
who's catching the biggest fish,
who's catching the most fish.
I miss arguing about politics.
I miss playing chess.
I miss you... every day...
especially on your birthday...
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