Beginnings
The perfect bookend to a life ill spent!
Nobody keeps a good record of their life, at least not anything that feels real. We lose all the depth in the image, the spirit, the laughter the shared tears. We lose the wrinkled corners of their eyes when they smile after their granddaughter laughs at their endlessly recycled “Grand” dad jokes, (Like “Dad” jokes, only a thousand times better). Once they are gone, they begin to shrink, the consciousness that was once so powerful in our lives, so secure feeling, begins to fade into the background. What was once a roar, becomes a whisper, then a murmur, then an echo, then… In the end, we are left with a few framed pictures, or a photo album, an old dusty leather jacket, maybe a few letters, just scraps, bits and pieces, odds and ends that never add up to who was.
