It’s been a tough week, but also one filled with blessings. We had a small, family only service for my Dad at the farm in West Virginia. It was a terrible, wonderful day.

A pastor Dad’s known since high school delivered the service on the deck at the farm house. Then we trooped out through the pasture to Sheep Rock where we tucked Dad’s ashes beneath the soil and leaves. My brothers topped it with a carved stone that was part of the chimney in the house Dad grew up in. It was as right as such a thing can be.

It was good spending time with my brothers–we so rarely all come together. And it was good to remember . . . I’m grateful I have memories enough to last a long, long time.