A snapshot in time

Cleaning up, I found an old picture. A snapshot in time, unposed and unfiltered, framed in white edging now a little tattered and torn. In it, I’m about 3 or 4 years old, I think, which means the photo was taken about 45 years ago. Almost half a century. That’s a conception of time thatContinue reading “A snapshot in time”

On death done well.

I reflect on my dad, as always, as we approach the anniversary of his death.  How is it seven years have passed already?  I had to look it up. It seems impossible, but time is relentless. It moves us away from things and blurs them in our memory. I have the sense of him oftenContinue reading “On death done well.”