Saturday, April 24, 2010


So, I've been thinking about my father today.

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.

Great memories.

Life moves on.

Memories remain. . .thankfully.

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