Out of Order, Out of Sorts

I am obviously writing this post after the death of my dad. I just couldn't post about January without acknowledging it. I'm dealing with the new normal of a gaping hole in my life, and this blog just lost 25% of it's readers, and surely it's earliest, most frequent checker of posts. With that said, I'll post a picture here and do a full tribute in a bit.

This one is entitled "The Night of the Tiny Spoon." It represents so many things about my Dad: he loved going out to dinner, he never met a stranger and especially loved chatting up waiters and waitresses, and he could laugh at himself and was just plain fun to be around. He loved taking us to dinner when we were kids, when we were adults, and later when we had kids of our own. On this particular night in October of 2017, John and I and the kids were in Hilton Head for Fall Break and it was our last night.  Cynthia was our waitress and the two of them went back and forth all night. When he ordered ice cream for the kids, and himself too, she joking brought him the tiniest spoon they had. He got such a kick out of it, and we laughed all night. It was perfect. I miss you, Dad!