This photo of my brother, Steve, and me was taken somewhere around 1960. Steve and I fought constantly and even broke a couple of doors when we were older. The good news is that we both grew up to be buds.
I was certainly expressing my older sisterly disdain at the moment the photographer snapped this shot. What I can't figure out is why Mom and Dad chose this pose to have printed.
I remember writing my dad's obituary. I sat on the floor, cross-legged, with a blank page from a steno book.
Birth and death dates - check.
Mother, father, family - check.
Employment - check.
Church membership - check.
Service time and place - check.
And that was all.
The "regular package" obituary rules in 1984 wouldn't allow us to mention his granddaughter's name, even though she was the light of his life.
I remember sobbing because that final summary of his life was so lacking in detail, in celebrating his life.
It was at that moment that I made a silent promise to celebrate the lives of those who came before me, and to help others discover their family histories.
Hey, there is nothing wrong with eye rolls, as long as you are the eye roll giver!
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