(I hope good ol’ Gandalf doesn’t mind my borrowing his picture.)
It doesn’t seem quite fair! It is becoming commonplace at funerals and memorial services nowadays for members of the family to dredge up memories of Dear Old Dad for the edification of his gathered friends and family. I suspect that some of these recollections may be apocryphal. It may be good grief therapy for the bereaved, but it doesn’t always honor the departed, 5th Commandment and all that.
What follows is my preemptive strike, a pre-certification of memories, one might say. An attempt to give my life my own spin.
As I remember my lurching through life, I don’t expect many others to be very interested. Most of it isn’t all that interesting to me, either. My greatest hope is that my family will at least skim it before substituting their memories for mine at my memorial service. Remember: I’m listening!
But before I begin perjuring myself, I promised son-in-law Kerry a brief account of my Dad’s engineering career.
I would be surprised if the Orlop itself does not paint a fairly accurate picture of my lurch through later life, warts and all. It is meant to be a running memoir of sorts, especially those posts listed in the memories category. As memories of earlier days pop up, I will try to capture them before they get away.