A strong bout of melancholy and terminable sadness take hold after I return from seeing the littles.
November was the last time we all were together, and little Hope wasn’t born yet.
I think sickness has finally come knocking on my door, or perhaps just old age is showing itself in my face, no matter what it is I suppose.
I’ve limited time left for making memories.
I let the shutter fly, and spend my waning years watching my littles here, their smiles help me through another day.
I hope they remember me in a good light.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.