I carefully tore open
the rose scented mini envelope.
Pulling out the cream colored paper,
I thought instead of a letter,
maybe it was a note.
The paper was small in size.
I unfolded it, glanced at her
elegant cursive, and read:

"Dad would always sit by that ugly plant you tried to take care of
(even when you miserably failed) everyday. He would water it.
Sometimes with water, sometimes with his tears.
But he is there every day."

It brought tears to my eyes.
As I wiped my tears away,
the envelope fell
from my hand.
A photograph fell out
swaying to the floor.
I bent down and picked it up.
I turned it over.
It was a photograph
of Me and my Sister
with Dad during my 8th birthday.

*Oh, how much I miss my childhood.