Exactly eight years ago I was in Edinburg, Scotland, when I heard dad had died, on mom’s birthday.

 I cried uncontrollably, in a booth in the hotel pub/restaurant for about half an hour. Still one of the best people, and just a great guy, in so many ways, that I have ever known. A great athlete and a great father/husband. And someone must have liked him , cuz he went in peace in his own bed, with no pain after his loved ones told him how much they loved him.

The next day we saw the floods in Broomfield, Colorado, with vehicles washed into a normally dry creek a couple miles from our house, on BBC.

Less than a month later mom was gone. Pretty much instantly, with little or no pain.

Wow, eight years ago. It seems even longer than that, although time is flying by. Thinking of them both, especially dad, on this day before 9-11, when I was visiting them on mom’s birthday, twenty years ago, a couple of weeks after the US finally left Afghanistan.

Lotta thoughts tonight….