The last moments with my father..

My name is Henry Martins...i heard about steemit from a friend and i think it's a great platform where people can express themselves. This is a story of the last moment I had with my late father... I was 6years old when one day my parents had a fight, alot of things where broken. I watched my dad pack his bags and walk out of the door. I rushed to follow him, he held and called me by the nick name he always called me and said go back inside. My parents got separated and I never saw my dad again, my memory him was the name he always called me. After wards, things became very difficult for us... it was basically a hand to mouth situation, I am the last child but I always acted as the first child cos i felt the pain my mum was going through. My mum struggled so hard to keep us together. This lasted till about the year 2010, 20years later And then things began to look up. I had to sacrifice my education in other to help. I got a small job with a magazine company, so i assisted my mum and siblings with my income. And then in the year 2015 my mum calls me at work and said there was someone waiting for me at home that I should return home early. So I closed early and ran home.. on getting home I walked into the house and saw a man seated in the sitting room with my mum and siblings.. he kept on looking at me with a sad face once I stepped into the house.. then my mum asked me to sit and she told me,he was my dad and that they have been in communication for 8months, and that he has been begging to come back into our lives and wants to know me. I could not believe it I fell to the floor on my knees and busted out in tears. My mum joined me and all he kept saying was forgive me!! forgive me!! forgive me!! I stood up in tears to walk out and he held my hand and called me by the name i remember he always called me wen I was 6years old(meme) i had to forgive and we accepted him back to the family. We started living as a family again through struggles and broken relationships.2months later, coming home from work one day, I found my dad dancing to Luther Vandross's "Dance with my Father" I watched, enthralled as he moved and sang along, his body twisting to the beats,a big smile plastered on his face. It was my first time to see him dance, this display of pure joy was infectious. Few weeks later he had a stroke and died unexpectedly in his sleep.. I have a few memories of him that I will always cherish but none quite as happy and carefree as his dance that day.. It's definitely the simple things that matters.. I miss my dad and I wish I had more time to spend with him...