was my first hero
always there for me
with unyielding love
a listening ear
My first memory is him holding me in his arms dancing in the living room with “Mona Lisa” playing on the record player.
He worked two, sometimes three jobs so my mom could stay home. Time with him was precious.
We worked on cars and I rode with him on his trencher when he had his own business.
We went to many auctions. I was always able to bid on a treasure that often was hidden in a box of junk.
But he wasn’t perfect, nobody is.
Unfortunately, his last act on earth was the most hurtful to us.
Which brings me to the point of this diatribe:
Life and relationships
with sweet treasures
in boxes of junk
Acts of self-destruction
and many more examples that can cause hurt and pain.
The key is to
see the sweet
focus on the love
let the treasures
rise above the junk.
177 XO Lisa