memories…my memory doesn’t serve me like it did only a few short years ago. While attempting to restore order to my overloaded garage, I came upon a dusty shoebox, taped shut setting on a shelf with seldom used this and that. Inside were birthday cards to Dad, old drawings from the kids, little, at the time, sentimental baubles. When I look at such keepsakes, I am always struck by the passage of time. I do the math, shake my head, and put the lid back on the box…..after snapping a photo.