An after thought

Then again it's nice to have a memory of hoping to have a memory of something you'd like to remember. Like Grandpa Lee sitting on the steps to the living room, in the den, with a wind-tossed comb-over and fresh picked berry juice staining the front of his short-sleeved, button-up, plaid, pink and pastel-trio dress shirt.

I wished I'd had a photo of it to paint from. I guess I took one as I wished it.