My father had to feed me for the first few days (weeks?) of my life. My mother was very sick after I was born. At some point soon thereafter he went back to sea.

We talked tonight for about an hour. He told me about when he came back from sea that first time after I was born. He had to re-acquaint himself with that little girl in the blue dress. And she was looking at him like she didn't quite know what to think of him. He could have sat up front with my mom, but he sat in back with me. I can almost imagine my reaction. The way little babies turn their necks real quick, look at you- and then look away. Kick their feet up and down.

We ended up talking about everthing from the military to the distilling process of spanish sherry (flor). I needed that. And there will never be an hug in the world that matches up to my father's hug. I'm a lucky girl.