i saw nostalgia etched on his face and etched onto my heart | a short story of sorts

my sweet daddy is a very bubbly type of soul, hardly allowing himself to know his own thoughts during the day. he laughs louder than the rest of the crowd around the table of company and is the silliest of the bunch until conversation becomes hushed with awkwardness, and although my cheeks ache with embarrassment during these times, I couldn't imagine him any other way. nor should I ever want to, for that matter. I don't often see daddy as a sentimental sort, although I know he is deep down. as nostalgia quietly creeps over his face, I am silent while I watch the stories of his past unfurl only by the creasing of his expressions. he breaths a few memories, swallows a sob of happy tears and holds my hand a little tighter while he reminisces...

"I still remember when you mother walked up those stairs in the church," he will say. "holding that bouquet of baby's breath." 

"that were shaking ever so fierce," I chime. 

he shakes his head solemnly. "I didn't notice." 

silence.

"I remember when I saw you in mommy's arms as she stepped off of the airplane," he says after awhile.

"mmm," is the only thing I manage to say as I study his features. his eyes stare into space. he doesn't smile, but I see the tenderness in his eyes whilst he cradles that treasured memory - one that I imagine has been stored at the back of his mind all this time.

"I didn't even know that you were going to be with her, until I saw you. there was so many weird things that were going on in china at that time." 

he finally looks at me with dazzling eyes. his lips curl into a smile. "and now you're here." 

four words that squeezes my heart with a rush of warmth. I am careful to say anything else tears will surely spill down my cheeks, and it doesn't do to be crying before bed...

xx's. 
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