I am at my dad’s cabin, now my brother’s, hunting for my dad’s telephone “short list” of his favorite numbers. I open the desk drawer, and find an envelope with 25 $5 bills in it. Why? It costs $5 to fish as a guest, and my dad, never wanting to come up short or not have the exact amount, must have gone to the bank to stock up.
We are having a memorial service for him here on Monday, three years after his death, nearly to the day. So much here is unchanged, and I truly think Christopher expects his Morfar to come wandering in at any moment. Annika and I sat up last night and told stories about the cabin’s history, and how we came to be in such a wonderful place.
1 comment:
LoL yes, well that was a stack of bills he had in his travel kit in Lubbock and was with a similar stack of tens, twenties, fifties and Benjamins of equal size, we divided it equally by value and you got more of the larger bills and I kept the tens and fives to take to the cabin for the mentioned purpose. I have really enjoyed the blog and think you are doing a great job of letting go. Everything in its own time and place. Much Love, Jed looks forward to seeing you for New Years in Hawaii.
Rob
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