Friday, December 5, 2008
The Day the Music Died
Today would have been my father’s 66th birthday. I owe so much to him, including being here in Rouen now. He was a magical person who loved encouraging people to think out of the box about how to live their lives. While in Paris this week Anna and I lit a candle for my dad at Notre Dame. I bawled my eyes out while she sang “Happy Birthday Dear Zeda”. I love you, Dad. Happy Birthday.
Update: Not to be all woo-woo, but as soon as I finished this post I got up and looked out the window. There, directly in front of our house, was a giant, bright, arcing rainbow. The first I’ve seen here. Every little bit helps.