Monday, September 15, 2008

how I'd like to remember him

I know that it will be difficult to rid myself of these (presumably) last memories of him, of the sick him, stooped and drugged and complaining. I need to make sure that the "real" memories, of who he really IS, the war stories he told about stumbling across his brother in Hawaii, the long involved stories he made up for us about Charlie Squirrel who lived in the backyard, the turkey carving, the unbelievable faith. I always want my memories of him to be of that man.

1 comment:

Mamie said...

This gradual mourning is taking its toll on all of you. I love the photo. And you.