Dads and cats

This is Gracie, my mom’s cat. Mom adopted her seventeen and a half years ago when my dad died, and she was a comfort then and a fussy old feline companion now. Here she sits on my stepdad’s lap. She’s bad at posing; I tried many times for a shot that didn’t include my sister’s red sock, but am leaving it to remind me of an evening of cookies and crossword puzzles.

I spent the morning in the university district with a dear friend from high school whose dad died recently. He'd worked with Jesse Jackson during the Civil Rights era and beyond, and had heard the shot that killed MLK Jr. A life beloved and well lived. My friend just returned from her hometown last night, where they'd held a memorial service on King weekend. It was wonderful to see her, and sorrowful too. 

One more day here.