This is one of my favourite pictures of my father. The tough, six-foot retired cop, his big, strong, rough hands carefully trying to comfort a screaming, unhappy grandchild. Caught with the dreaded curl dangling out of place on his forehead, hands full, unable to quickly comb it back before the camera clicked. The rare gentle side I don’t even think he knew he had. It was there. It just took him awhile to find it.

after death

the things in life

that really matter

Happy Birthday, Dad!

I miss you still