Creative Writing
Dad–
Thank you for smearing ointment on my cheeks and eyelids in the winter, protecting me from drying up like a raisin– for tucking me into bed and reading John Green aloud. I awoke with soft eyelids and supple cheeks, while you, who could barely cook, stirred instant oatmeal. You never once complained, but I knew that you had put your dreams on hold to take care of me.
Thank you for letting me smell the flowers at the bodega on the way to school, briefcase in one hand and my mitten in the other. For practicing your part in our piano duets even after I had gone to sleep because you hadn’t played for thirty years. For never rushing me at the art store, even after hours of deciding on fabric and supplies. For giving me your humor and demeanor. Here’s a secret: I’ve always wanted to be just like you. Just as well read, just as good at Jeopardy!, just as creative, and just as grounded. You were, and still are, my best friend. I love you.
– Addison