So on -actual- fathers day, I gave my dad the poem I wrote for him during the holidays. Again he cried. It felt nice. I love my father.
Entry viewed times. Posted in Dad
You are reading the journey through the daily life of a native pagan spirit and survivalist in the back hills of Maryland. Within these pages you'll find information regarding the struggle of a young 20-something divorced aries supporting her disabled father, her spirituality with a Druid Grove, various posts regarding web development, and the custody battle of her baby sister.
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