I have three loves...

photography, writing and family. The latter got a bit smaller this past week with the burial of my Poppa. I've had so much to say, so much to share and bleed for him since his passing on Saturday, but I believe that in my peace, I've said it all and now it is just a matter of living as he did: with precision and humor.

He never ceased to be amazing. Even in his final weeks, surrounded by doctors that would make House take a Valium, his humor fought to destroy his situational pessimism. He wrote everything down. Two five-year diaries chronicling 1945-55 were found and perused, his "Resume," similarly documenting, is a fourteen-page long outline of every step in life he's ever taken. I want to memorize it.

I was his favorite grandchild, daughter to his favorite son and to the woman his wife refused to accept into the family. He loved us with his smile.

I am working on negotiating my regrets to take their leave. I have no reason to hold onto sadness or disillusionment. But I will hold onto his memory and his talent for life. Not only will I hold but I will squeeze with everything I have until it has no other choice but to absorb. I will carry him with me forever.


Earl D. Collins July 15, 1929 - June 20, 2009