A couple of years back when I visited Appa, he took me to his room and opened a draw, as if to show me a treasure. There in neat piles were all the letters, cards and paper clippings I had posted to him over the years. My eyes clouded with tears. That day I saw the soft tender part of my tall, dark, handsome and strong father.
Read MoreEarlier this year, around the end of February, my dear friend, Adrian, told me she had been listening to a new podcast called “Fight Hustle, End Hurry.” As we talked about our jobs and our upcoming girls trip at the end of March, she encouraged me to listen to this podcast when I had the chance.
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