the first birthday party of mine he’d been to in a few years due to his work schedule. He gave me a birthday card, which he had never done before. He spelled my name wrong on the envelope. People spell my name wrong all the time, and I usually don’t think much of it, but that time it made me sad. I opened the card to see what he wrote inside. That’s the more important part anyway. “Love, Dad” was all he wrote underneath the poem in the card.
