OPINION: A day with my father
Someone once asked me, “If you could relive any day, what would it be?” Well, I can’t pinpoint the exact date, but it would have been a summer day in 1964 or thereabouts.
I’m around twelve years old and still exist in a time of innocence. Comic books, stickball, and homework dominate my thoughts. The first week in July my father begins his two week vacation and the first day of his time-off is devoted to me. We wake early, I dressed in chinos, short sleeve shirt, and sneakers – he dressed similarly although with shoes and an omnipresent pack of camels in his breast pocket.