As I look through items in preparation for the move, I find small bits of memory in odd places, say a photo disc at the bottom of my underwear drawer. When I spun it up in the disc drive, photos of my sister with my first daughter flashed in a slide show. I paused on the above picture. There are loved ones in the corners.
Molly, the super old Golder Retriever of indeterminate age, who was beloved of my middle child. She passed away in the summer of '06. Seeing this photo of her made me want another old retriever to balance out the young White Dragon. I know she filled the bill for one of a kind. Wooo Wooo, Molly. We do miss you.
More noticeable is my father. He's been absent from our lives too long. The hole remains the same large, pain-inducing size. I will follow Bill Emory's advice. Framed photos of my father with my children will inhabit their rooms.