When I scrap photos of my dad, I get thoughts along the lines of ....who would have guessed at the time the photo was taken, he was going to be battling an aggressive cancer just a year later; or I wish xxxx when we took this photo because just xxx months from then, he would be gone. After he passed, I immersed myself into his memorial services, paperwork, and figuring out my mother's care. Sixteen month later, we're at our calmer new normal and I get a little lost at times.

The word cloud, which was part of his memorial presentation, reminds of all the different facets of my dad...and the enthusiasm he had for each. At the center, though, was always family and friends. He was a good man, husband and daddy.

(sorry for the rambling. but journaling out loud is very therapeutic. Sometimes I think that, after I'm gone, these snapshots and glimpses into who we are will the only place we live on since our family line ends with me.)