Bittersweet

I agree that happiness is in the little things.  Today (not all days; but, I can safely say today), I am very grateful to have Dad in our home.  Earlier today, he was looking at some pictures that I had not seen in awhile.  I just found him in his room (sitting on his bed, which he always has to make), thumbing through a few pictures mostly from the '70s and mostly of me and our oldest brother, David.  Dad always wrote the who/what/when/where on the back of the pictures.  I love that.  Later in life, he stopped doing that (I wonder if that should have been a sign?).

Unfortunately, Dad did not remember that it was us.  I had to tell him.  They did look "familiar" to him, though.  It was still a joy to find him there, looking for something to jog his memory.

It's also a joy to see me at my children's ages.  They are unique; but, my sons may have picked up a gesture, a personality trait, a "look"... in addition to some of my physical features.  That makes me feel like when I leave this world, I will live on in my children, as we will do for our father.  Bitter and sweet, like that chocolate frosting on your cake!  By the way, where's my slice?