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He was always Daddy. While many children outgrow the baby name for their fathers, I never did. He was never Father, Da, Pops, Dad or Papa. He was always Daddy and this year marks the 18th Father’s Day that I haven’t bought a card, made his favorite German chocolate cake or called him to say I love you.
That hurts. Although time has made his death more bearable, there is still an ache that cannot be assuaged, a longing that rips at my heart almost every day and a void that will never be filled.
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