Benjamin Franklin said, “Guests, like fish, start to smell after three days.
Clearly, he didn’t have a brother like Unca John.
Fourteen whole days and we were still smiling this morning before he stepped on the plane.
Okay, so there were some difficult moments, I’ll have to admit.
Like when we had to play scrabble til the wee hours, even on school nights.
And he always won.
When he did 100 push-ups on the steep hill up through the jungle while waiting for me to trudge up to catch up with him.
And when we couldn’t help but laugh at his corny jokes, no matter how many times he told them, over and over.
The way he brought more color into our lives, even when we thought no more would fit.
And the way we all found ourselves looking up when he was around,
day and night.
Then there was the little brush with the law we won’t go into here…
it may or may not have had something to do with the trip to the temple,
his visit to the high school,
or possibly his short-lived but highly successful stint as an art teacher.
But, as Edna Mode from the Incredibles says,
“Never look back, dahling. It distracts from the now.”
So, just when we were getting used to the departure of red,
we said good-bye to gold today.
As much as we try to hold onto their color, we all feel a bit off kilter without them.
We will stand in the now,
our closest to uniform-perfect footwear ensemble
stands alongside the Trinidad-kissed footprints of Unca John
and the wise words of Edna Mode.
jumping off the hamster wheel 
I’m laughing and cryiing, sharing those wonderful memories with you all! So glad you had such a special visit and let us all in on it.
Mum
🙂
Yup. My dads the best. We’re pretty lucky 🙂
what an overall wonderful family! 🙂
Sweet and lovely! xo Bob
i have mums feet!
you know what they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree! You wear them well.
Finally I made it to the blog. Things must be looking up for me to have a moment to do it. I finished my essay on the short story “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson (if you read the story I’ll send you the essay). I cried and cried. Not sure whether it was at just how moved I was by your beautiful writing and gorgeous pictures or by seeing John there with you. It makes me miss Connie so much. It was through Connie’s dying process that I really got to know him and appreciate him so much. Wish I played that scrabble game with you. (Remember how he hated that I supported someone’s use of the word “zingy”) I keep thinking of how much Connie should’ve been there with you on the beach and having tea. It still sucks. Anyway, so happy we got to hang a bit when you were here.