Two years pass so quickly

Late Saturday night, November 14, 2009.  I visited my brother Greg this afternoon,  drank a cup of coffee and borrowed his grinder tool.  I swung by my brother Bruce's apartment and we talked about being unemployed and about his plans to visit Mom later this evening.   The day was gray and without notable meteorological characteristics.   Not too many days ago, I was taking a picture of an SNJ on the flight deck of the Midway Museum in San Diego because Dad talks so evocatively about flying that plane in training in his book.   

Two years ago,  I remember Dad being in great discomfort from his hip when I visited on Sunday afternoon.  And ten days later,  he was gone after ten days in the hospital.   I still find myself having difficulty believing that he's gone.  He is so present,  such a strong voice.    My father.  always.