Saturday, April 24, 2010
Had he lived, we would be celebrating his 90th birthday.
He was a good man.
I miss him a lot.
For some reason I've been thinking about when I was 16-years-old and he handed me the keys to our 1957 Buick Super 4-door hardtop, the family car. It became my car that day.
I painted it maroon, removed the hubcaps and painted the wheel rims black. He never said a word. It was my car. The '57 above is just like the car I first drove, except for the color and less 2 doors.
Life moves on.
Memories remain. . .thankfully.