Apr 7, 2020
4 min read
The Damage Only a Father Can Do
I remember my father narrating stories to my mother it always ended in her loud bursts of laughter. I loved those moments, it was exciting. Often he planted kisses on her belly which felt like tickles to me.
He would sing she would dance, we were happy I grew knowing I was a product of their love. Some time during pregnancy everything changed. I couldn’t feel my father’s presence, the atmosphere I got…
