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My father is the kind man he is thanks to all his memories and the past I might never be able to see or experience for myself. And Flamie is part of him, forever. A living memory that would never fade, his heart itself. Flamie is the flame in his heart, his relentless bravery and strength, his unwavering determination… and above all, his kindness.
He had already experienced what it meant to take care of a small, defenseless little creature long before any of us were born, so it was no wonder he had grown into such a good dad. Looking at him now, I could not help but laugh softly at the thought.
If anything, seeing dad like this did not worsen the image I had of him… it improved it even further. It revealed to me that my father had once been just like any of us when we were children—full of wonder, attachment, and quiet vulnerability beneath all the strength he showed the world.
