Tis the night before Christmas…
…and I was scrolling through my contacts, wondering if I should call my father.
We hadn’t spoken in almost two years. Pride can be such a stubborn thing.
I hovered my thumb over his name for a long time.
Then the thought hit me:
"Someone has to be the first to try"
So I called.
There was silence… then his familiar voice, shaky but warm:
“I was hoping you’d call tonight.”
We talked for an hour—about nothing, about everything.
And when the call ended, it felt like a weight I’d carried for years had finally been lifted.
Sometimes, the best Christmas gift…
is a second chance.
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