My parents are gone, but I still have their things. A plate, a chair, a matchbook, a sweater, an old cell phone. Something of them lives on in this stuff. Send a picture of an object and tell me what it does to you and how it makes you feel about your mom and dad, dead or alive. Then go clean up your room. Thank you
My father was an early cell phone abuser. His ringtone was the Mexican Hat Dance – the only politically incorrect ringtone I’d ever heard. If I was visiting him because I thought he was lonely after my mother died, he would dial his friends and make me talk to them as a way of showing me off. If we were eating dinner, he'd answer calls or make them to lists of people about bridge games and concert dates. It was annoying, sure, but did I really need to criticize him? Now he’s gone and I’m sorry I was finding fault when I could have been enjoying him. He did the best he could and he let me know he loved me all the time. Can a son ask for more?