Dammit. If I can’t tell you, who the hell can I tell?

It’s hard to come back gracefully after baring your soul to the world. But I have to.
Times are still tough, but I’m doing okay. Keeping my Dad busy has been the uppermost thing in my mind, but he’s doing alright. They would have been married 61 years this month.
Bugger, dammit.
I keep reminding him to remember the good times they had instead of how she was her last few days. It’s been good for me to remember the days she and I called each other Lorene and Chlorine. Tits and Toots. (I was not Toots. ;-) )
The time she and I went into a clock shop in Pigeon Forge, TN. … I made sure she was thoroughly occupied with a sales clerk while I set every clock in the shop to chime the hour just before we exited the store. :P
The day she and Dad drove up to see me and she and I went out for a roll of camera film and nearly had the cops out looking for us because we’d been gone for six hours.
The night so many years ago I invited her over for Purple Passions. I had to walk her home that night. ;-)
The memories are great. She was a fun-loving girl, and would want me to carry on.
So, I intend to.

Anything that happens after this, Mom, is for you and me.