Before leaving town, I drove up to the cemetery and knelt by Dad's grave. Looking down at the marker, it was still hard to believe it was all true. Not only that, but it was a year and a half ago. On the way back to Tulsa, I took a few pictures along the road that brought back memories for me and wondered what I'd forgotten. I'm thirty-one years old now and a lot of details have faded from my childhood and beyond. I am thankful that I have the opportunity to capture my world, whether it's by camera or written word. My brother and I had dinner on Friday and we remembered Tony Martin while we ate and laughed together. I'm very pleased that we get along so well these days. Dad would've liked that.
Love you, Dad.