Wednesday, February 26, 2014

I rested my head upon my pillow. It had been an unusually busy day. A memory, a glimpsing in a moment's thought tumbled across my lanquid mind. Three years, it had been three years since I was lying on a mat on the floor and heard my father's breathing cease, his time on earth had ended and simultaneously his time in eternity had begun.

I was rather beleaguered that I had lived the entire day without remembering. Last week I had remembered that February 26 was coming up. Perhaps it is good that the spiculum of those last months of his life have faded.


The day we were to leave and travel out of town to attend the funeral, Charlotte did a report on her Granddaddy. I remember how sweet it was to hear her report.