Kimberly Rex

In all the years since, I’ve never found him again. He’s on my mind, of course, during the special moments but also the mundane. I tell stories about him, like the time I woke him up while attempting to hang a bulletin board in my teenage bedroom. I was bending every nail I tried to hammer. He walked in, hair askew, took the hammer from my hand, drove the nail into the wall with two whacks and left without a word. Sometimes, memories like this make me smile. Other times, I want to cry for all that he has missed — for all that I have missed without him. - Kimberly Rex

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