You’re really here, he said, and he was the one of us who cried first. He said something I didn’t understand but the sound of it was so familiar. And I knew: it was what he used to say to me when I was a baby, the thing my mother didn’t know. It was just ours, me and my dad’s. It means Ride Like the Wind in my mother’s language he said. God, he said next. I left a little boy in his mom’s arms and now here you are, a man. Then he pulled me into his arms and said I missed you little man.
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