Speaking Fluent Fatherlish

I was five years old, and my dad wasn’t as affectionate as my mom. I believed he didn’t love me as much. One night, my bedroom door opened just a bit. My dad whispered, “Johnny, are you awake?” Feigning sleep, I didn’t answer. I felt his hand on my cheek and a kiss on my forehead. He whispered, “I love you, son.” It was his way of speaking “Fatherlish” (October). —Johnny smith Lake of the Woods, Virginia