On my father's supposed 68th birthday, I find myself wishing he were here to congratulate me on my first prize wins for oncology research, or to tell me that I'm losing weight and should eat some more, or to listen to his hearty laughter that my brother and I remember him for. I miss you every day, Tay, and I look forward to the day when we meet again.
Saturday, October 26, 2019
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