November 8, 2014
This date marks the anniversary of my father's death. I've written about this day before. If you've lost a beloved parent you recognize your life is suddenly divided in two - the before and the after. I've lived longer in the after than the before and, for me, the time before is marked by halcyon days.
I don't remember who took this old snapshot of us at the wedding of one of my cousins. I was a bridesmaid, which pleased me greatly. My mother made all the bridesmaid dresses, too. Dad wasn't big on having his picture taken but he did it for me. How could we know in a few short years he'd be gone?
Had he survived the cancer, Dad would be 85 this year. I can't begin to picture what he might look like. For me he is forever young, frozen in the few precious snapshots I have of him. He left me a legacy of love and lessons of what makes a real man, all freely given. He helped shape the person I am today and I'm proud to be part of his legacy.