When your father dies, the air feels heavier, sounds linger a little longer, and the food tastes different.

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I wasn’t ready to be the man of the house, and mom was a complete mess. Had it not been for my Uncle Jack, I’m not sure mom would’ve survived, let alone made it to the funeral. But that’s what we did. “March on, big man,” Uncle Jack would say. …


Paul B. Kohler

Bestselling fiction writer @PaulBKohler resides in Anthem, AZ but lives in his stories. Check his work out at www.PaulKohler.net