For my first story of kindness, I wrote about my late father, a light little vignette through my childhood eyes. (Growing up was far from idyllic; no one asked about your feelings like today for kids, and why, in an "all-boys" family, my parents sent me to all-boys schools for 12 years is mystifying, in retrospect, but we never questioned it, alas, and that explains everything, ha.) Of course, a flood of memories brought smiles and a few tears. I was surprised how much I recalled after decades, how one memory sparked another. It's an exercise if foreign to you I'd recommend because it may be cathartic as well as something to share with others (here even). The above photograph in Vermont with friends in silhouette reminds me a lot of my father. He acquired this lakeside retreat about fifty years ago, and found a long contented retirement there. In fact, his love of swimming off this rocky shoreline spanned nine decades, but that's another story.... If you compose a story for this site, we'd love to hear about your felt experience writing it.
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Peter Johnson...currently lives in PA but spends time in VT and, especially, Colorado. ArchivesCategories |