Through Someone Else's Eyes

 Herself speaks.

My father has written his biography. I've started reading it, so I can tell him if there's any parts that might benefit from further details.

I've now read about his early years, and the way it is written is heartbreakingly lovely. All the small details are there: of his dog, who would take the shortcut through the woods to meet him at a relative's house; of my grandparents in their heyday; of the two-room schoolhouse, the high school hangouts and activities, the 14-cent Saturday matinees. It's beautiful. A slice of time that will eventually be forgotten -- except through his written word. 

One of the most fascinating aspects of his autobiography, is seeing the world through his eyes. He's a quiet, kind, and brilliant man, and hearing his 'voice' and his stories from his point of view is wonderful. It brings tears to my eyes.

Perhaps it's time for me to write a little more about the people who are important to me. One day, possibly, someone may find it meaningful in learning more about this slice of time in which we now live.