ss1

Making Some New Memories
2008-10-13 - 8:13 p.m.


before/after
strangely non-functional guestbook

I have a block on writing since my father passed away.

Its not so much that I can't write, its more that anything I write comes off as angry or depressing.

I'll keep trying, though.

-----------

"YEAHHHH!! YEAHHH!!! HERE YOU GO!!! THAT'S WHAT YOU WANTED, RIGHT!? THAT'S WHAT YOU LIKE!! YEAH! YEAHHHHH!!" the bride, my cousin kari, shouted at the hotel shuttle van as she hiked up the hem of her wedding dress and aggressively waved her bare ass at the van, effectively mooning it while her my uncle, Dean, watched forlorn.

A hang-dog expression of mixed disbelief, powerlessness, and loss washed over his face.

If I could read his mind, it probably would have almost said "my baby...", as a panoply of memories, such as the first time he held her in the hospital, changing her diapers, her first steps, her first day of school, teaching her to drive, and her first date all played out in his mind, culminating in seeing his baby girl in her wedding dress on her wedding day, mooning the hotel shuttle.

His mind almost would have said all this, that is, but for the shock that he was currently enduring.

It was late, just about everyone was swathingly drunk.

Except me, of course.

Ah, memories.


a template by wicked design

about comment designer archive archives newest diaryland

tml>