His name was Jonah Parker Cummings. He lives in my memory of him. He was not perfect-who is? He did not speak much, but when he did, it was worth listening. Sometimes I forget exactly when he died...not sure if this is because of my fading memory or if I am just confused--maybe it's both.
Some people are better at remembering things like dates and places. I try to remember what's in my heart and those things seem to be timeless.
Sometimes I can see my Father as if it was yesterday--I can hear his voice--I can look into his eyes--I can smell his presence--I can feel his hand and I remember my Father.
His Birthday was last month he would have been 80...at least I think so.
Every once in a while you'll read about my Father here and maybe you'll think about him as well and if you don't that's ok too.
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