I haven't written about dad's actual death yet, it still hurts too much and I fear the tears would never stop. Over the last few months mom has gone on a spree, giving away and donating things they've collected over the 50 plus years of marriage. I don't think she realized just how much 'stuff' they had. Dad was a picture taker. It seems like he was always getting his camera out. Growing up it seems that he was always taking the same group picture, the same photo of a family dinner, the same photo of holidays. The same faces, the same Christmas tree, the same Thanksgiving table. What I didn't realize until after he was gone and mom started going through boxes upon boxes of these pictures was that he was documenting the history of our family. Our lives. My throat gets tight and my eyes well with tears thinking about how our lives have changed. It's all there in black and white and color glossies to see. So, mom
Thoughts and Observations