At first, when I asked about a favorite memory, they said, “Everything.” But near the end of the conversation, I asked again.
Joe has always had a lead foot. In a hurry to get everywhere. One time when he got pulled over, Jane had to cover her mouth to hold in the giggles. Meanwhile, in the backseat, their son stood up. He was about four, and there weren’t any backseat seatbelt laws yet. The cop was right outside his window—and his gun was at eye level. Their son got really scared and said, “Don’t shoot my Daddy!”
Joe teared up a little, and we sat for a few seconds, then hugged it out. Telling stories, sharing memories, and remembering the people we have lost makes the grief easier somehow. I know Jane and Joe both LOVED reliving memories of their son.
