Instead I am looking through just digital images that are fragments of memories, and I seem to have more of your objects than your face (there are more of those in the boxed photo albums 2000 miles away in a closet). I want to have one more conversation with you, yet the closest I can get is that imprinted memory of your voice. Does it even matter if I can recall it exactly or just more I can tap into it?
A lovely post from my friend, Alan Levine. A reminder for sure. On a day where my own Dad is heading in for his first post bone cancer scan I am humbled by my own blessing. Dear Photo: Birthday Dad - CogDogBlog