and now it's eight

Today when I was driving to physical therapy, I saw my hands on the steering wheel at 11 and 1, just as my father used to drive. I don't know why they were so far up on the wheel -- I don't usually drive that way. But seeing my own hands up there made me remember my Dad's, and just that reminded me what day it is today.

For all Americans, today is the anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. For my family, today is the eighth anniversary of my father's death. I wrote about it last year, and everything I said then still applies.

Nothing lasts forever.

Thanks, Dad.