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.
You were the pillar of fashion.
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