Yesterday was the second anniversary of my father’s passing. I remember every detail of his last hours, as Meredith and I sat with him and held his hands, stroked his forehead and told him we loved him. I miss him. That’s an understatement. I miss my mom. Both gone within 18 months of each other.
Dad is with his father – my grandfather – in this photo. I’m sure it was taken out at the lake, where they built their cottage, the first cottage on that lake. I never knew my grandfather, as he died before I was born. But I do know my father adored him. So I adore him. His close friend was the poet Edgar Guest – they played cards together. They were so close that my grandparents asked him to be my father’s godfather.
This is one of my favorite pictures of my handsome father. And I love looking at my grandfather’s kind and gentle face.
Miss you Dad. Thank you for being my dad.
It’s insanely windy out there and you know that I am very edgy when that happens. There’s a high wind warning until 6 pm and the winds were so intense last night that they woke me up. It rained torrentially all day yesterday, as well.
I’ll be glad when this is over. I haven’t opened the blinds. I’ve got the radio blaring to cover up the sound of the wind.
Do. Not. Like.
I’m currently lapping up all the details as to the news of Manafort’s indictment. I predicted, and I’m sure I’m not alone in this, that he would be the first one to topple.