Once in awhile I see a picture that I find myself coming back to again and again. This one was taken of my father by my little sister this summer. It's a keeper for me because, symbolically, it says a lot to me about my Dad. He is in a church, a simple, beautiful place, and yet I might draw significance from the fact that it is actually a museum. However in this church my Dad is not facing the front, or even showing any interest in what is usually central in a church. Instead, he is at the back, studying the history on the walls. Next to him is a wash basin. And outside the light is so bright.

I sure do love my Dad; good and bad, there is so much of him in me. And I'm glad to be a part of his journey.