I can't find the year of this photograph, but I think I was 10--making it 1981 or so. We have a joke in our family that I was 10 forever. When I was eight, my father thought I was ten. After ten was gone for me, my dad kept calling me ten. It was as if he liked me being ten, or it was just an easy age to remember.
Phill and my daughters have returned home today. Those two needed some normalcy. My baby boy is with me. I'll probably travel back late next week. Phill wrote about Inwe's reaction to seeing my father's body. Read it at his blog.