Missing my dad this fall, as I do every fall now.
We visited with my mom today, carved pumpkins and so forth. We reminisced about a visit we made at this time of year, when I took this photo, the last photo I took of my father. My youngest, not yet in preschool, dragged her chair next to his and asked him to read this silly story about Olaf the snowman. My dad was a great reader to children. He read most of our stories when I was a kid. He was a patient reader and liked to make funny voices. He continued this tradition with his grandkids.
I remember Dad reading the Winnie the Pooh story about heffalumps to my brother and me when were barely older than this. When Piglet is running in terror hollering “Hoff hoff, a herrible horrilump,” my brother and I were in hysterics.