This is my papa in October, 1976. Check out his amazing hair and moustache. He’s sitting on the Big Rock at my cottage, which overlooks the little lake we share with one other family. He told me several times that it was the place he loved the most in the world, the place where he felt at peace. That’s why I insisted his ashes be sprinked there. And I can understand. I’m at my happiest there, too. It’s where I’ll be this time tomorrow.
Happy Thanksgiving !
