I never knew my father, not to the degree I would have liked. I have a few photos of him that my mother left me, so that I can remember what he looks like. My own earliest memories of him are dim, but I cling to them as best I can. A smell, I think it was his cologne. The warmth of his arms around me before he left for the last time. Sometimes, in a dream, I even remember his voice. Just softly, like a whisper.
He was a doctor, the kind that travels to other countries to provide aid. One day he went out there and never returned. But... I've never been angry at him for putting himself in danger like that. To me, he was a hero. All I've ever wanted was to be like him.
I feel like I'm closer to that now than I have ever been in my life. Since he is gone... this is the best father's day gift I can give him. I hope it is enough.