My mom has a pastel drawing of my dad hanging in her house. It was drawn when my dad was 5 or 6 years old. The expression on Elizabeth's face is the same as my Dad's in that drawing - especially the eyes. It's amazing how sometimes when you look at her, you see him shrunk down.
This has been a very trying week. My mother is now grating on my last nerve and I just can't wait to get home. I keep being reminded of my dad and the days surrounding his death. It's just not fun. I think this is my last ever trip to SW Florida. If I could, I'd leave today.