Six years ago, my mother passed away from her 4th battle with Cancer.
Two weeks ago, my father passed away from an abdominal aneurysm.

He was gone from my life for over 9 years - battling the demons that came home with him from the Vietnam war. It was this Thanksgiving - that he finally agreed to come see us again - he met my daughter for the first time and thankfully - I took a few photos. A month later - he died.

Then my sister and I had the task of boxing up his things and going through his personal things...and all of those years that I was convinced he didnt care about me (because he didnt seem to want to talk to me or visit me...) he was actually tortured with dreams and memories that he just couldnt face. All those years I thought he didnt care about me or my children - I was so wrong.

I found all of the photos Id sent over the years, along with the notes and cards mailed to him during those long 9 years that he didnt write back - I found photos of us in the wallet he carried when he died. I found pictures of him from Vietnam - Id never seen him that way before.

It is times like this - that I realize - how big of a job I have. I know Ive said it before - but its true. I am making memories for other people that generations to come will treasure.

I dont know what I would do if I had gotten to his tiny little trailer in Louisianna and not found a single photo of my dad. Id have nothing to prove he existed at all.

The few pictures I Took while he was here are the only photos my daughter will ever have of her with her Papa Dan. I know that when shes grown and she goes through her boxes of photos - she will stop and look at them and smile and when her own children reach up to grab her arm and ask her why shes crying - she can show them a picture of the time she got to meet her Papa Dan.

Im overwhelmed...but Im so grateful I have photos to cherish.