We shared some great memories of my husband while my son was here. It’s getting easier and easier to do so. Once the source of sadness, now the means to keep him alive in our hearts and make him come alive to his grandchildren who will never meet him, except through the stories we tell. We remembered the bizarre way he folded T-shirts and his gift for tall tales, something his grandson inherited. Of course, we only tell the fun stories, the good memories, because that’s what he would want, no need, to be remembered by. We skip the mistakes, failures, and, hardships for those aren’t what defined him. They molded him and changed him, but they are not the sum of who he was. We remember the funny things he did, his adventures, and accomplishments. His life influenced ours intentionally, or unintentionally as we observed the pieces he allowed us to see, and then made choices to either exemplify the ones we found worthy or take a different path. What pieces of him in us will we pass on? His love of hiking, passion for fishing, skill at woodworking, musical talent? Pieces very much alive in us today.