It was a cold November morning several years ago. My alarm clock had just gone off, but I was having trouble getting out of bed. My dad had died a few weeks before. I felt weighed down by sadness and depression.
Tough(结实的)and strong, my dad had worked so hard all of his life to support us. He had a temper and would sometimes shout at my brothers and me, but I always knew that he loved me. Still, he had been raised in a traditional way and raised us that way too. I couldn't remember, for example, ever being hugged by him.
But eventually, my mom and grandma passed away. My dad moved into grandma's home right up the road from where I lived. I was so happy to have him close by. I would often visit him and just talk with him about life. But we still rarely touched and never hugged. Finally, his own health began to rapidly fail and within a few months he left us. It was a cold morning when we had his service, but I was too cold and numb(麻木的) inside myself to feel it. I couldn't remember when we'd had our last hug.
I sighed and got out of my bed. I turned on the lights and walked into the hallway. It was my son Tony walking down the hall to meet me. Suddenly, he opened his arms and gave me a heartfelt hug. And just as he did, I heard my dad's voice deep inside of me say, "Joey, this hug is from me！" I cried and smiled at the same time. At that moment, in the place where heart, mind, and spirit all meet, I felt loved. I felt loved by my dad. I felt loved by life.
