I was priviledged to have lunch with a dear friend, Melba, today. As she held my book and scanned quickly, she noted the first sentence which is about my parents, who protected me and taught me how to approach life and handle its problems. Father’s Day has come and gone and we laughed recounting what she calls my ‘uniqueness’. I am a Texan, a Southern Baptist and have a way of doing life. We talked of the love she and I have for the elderly and where the journey brought us. I am so grateful for my dad who made sure we understood the importance of pulic worship, fellowship with other believers and trusting God to be in charge. Then she laughed and commented that now I was relaxed enough with life that I might could consider laying in the snow and making a snow angel, something I could not do with her ten years ago, way to stiff for that! Now I think I could enjoy the experience with her rather than being a spectator. My parents taught me to be tough, and it is the strength they displayed to me as they lost my brother in 1985 and then my sister in 1995. The photo is their wedding picture and is reflective of the dark haired woman my dad told me about when Melba interviewed him for a college assignment and what he was most proud of, his service to our nation in WWII. Thanks for giving me a story, dad and mom, and thanks to Melba for the walk down memory lane. Enjoy the book my dear friend.