I Remember...

I remember the way he used to come home from work, smelling like ink! I remember when he moved into the house with us in Oxnard, leaving behind the little house in San Diego. I remember his old stories about coming to America. I remember the long lectures about algebra and school. I can still hear his voice echoing through my ears always saying, "School comes first, my darling." I loved his homemade soup that he made every weekend. I remember his heart-warming smile, the smile that made me feel complete, the same smile I can still see in my dreams. I'll never forget the day he went away...