Susan pulled out a yellowed photo from the wallet. With bruised shins and short hair, the pink shirt was the only girlly thing in the photo.

“You butchered your hair with those stupid school scissors.â€? Susan was startled by how quiet her mother entered the room “It’s been in his wallet for 30 years” her mother finished.

Although Susan’s dad was in a coma by the time she drove down, she bared her soul in that hospital room; she told him how he had been right about her first husband and about dropping out of college; she laid out all her faults to his motionless body. Although, she felt better saying it, she wished he had been awake to hear it all. She wished he heard how she just wanted to be his little girl again.

“Why don’t you keep the photo, dear” her mother added.

As she slid the photo in the side of her purse, she saw her father’s writing on the back. “You’ve always been my little girl, and you always will” it said. It was dated the day he died. Susan started weeping as her knees buckled.