Same Boat, Different Island. ⚓️✨
My father’s rhythm was one of survival so that mine could be one of peace. Tonight, I’m looking at the life he paved from a seat of stillness.
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| Same boat, different island. He conquered the gale so I could finally enjoy the calm of the Sanctuary. |
I remember the calloused hands that never knew a ‘Shed.’
The rhythm of the old island was a heavy one—