/r/TwoSentenceSadness
When I was a kid, it bothered me how often my dad would talk about his late father, wishing I could've known him.
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After my parents finished another one of their late-night arguments, I slowly opened my bedroom door and snuck into the hallway to use the restroom.
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As I watched my father die, the tumor consuming his brain, my mother, siblings, and I wanted to smile.
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