Shared Memories

06/01/2023

memorial day posting

Create an account or log in to Instagram - A simple, fun & creative way to capture, edit & share photos, videos & messages with friends & family.

06/10/2019

TaleFlick is a curation and library service for authors, specializing in adapting books to movies and tv shows. Clients include major Hollywood studios as well as producers, production companies and publishers.

03/28/2019

autographed copy of "The Evil of the Witch Rose," contact me at "[email protected]" It is also so available without autograph on Barnes and Noble, Amazon, nook, and Kimble

03/28/2019

if you have a memory like those below and would like it in writing, please contact me at "[email protected]"

I will take a special little moment from your life and enlarge it into a recreation suitable for framing, and sharing with your spouse, child, etc.

03/23/2015

sample memory

Justine
“You made my mother cry.”
I had the quip on the edge of my tongue, but hesitated. I glanced into the depths of Justine’s eyes and wondered. Was it your mother I made cry or your way of saying I touched your heart. Hard to tell with you, you’re a lot tougher than most teenagers.
You were the first of Michele’s teammates to talk to me.
It was way back in that eighth grade gym when you plunked down next to me with that almost a laugh smile on your face. Not the giggle laugh of a nervous little girl, or the “ha ha” of something funny. It was more the laugh of “I am enjoying the moment,” and you are welcome to share it.
“Are you part of Michele’s family?”
“Not really, but sorta.”
Unlike many people, you never gave me any strange looks as I stumbled through my explanation. You just filed away the words as fact and went from there.
I found myself sharing basketball with you: try this, stay away from that, and remember to enjoy the game. And over time you shifted from Michele’s teammate to part of my family.
We had our own special moments; like when I got so into you playing basketball game, I butchered your name down from Justine, to Justin. That got me the look of the year, but if nothing else I knew you were listening.
Any coach will tell you it means a lot when you can pick a single voice from out of the crowd, even if the speaker is having a brain dead moment. Hopefully this meant you were a hearing my other comments. Those that might have been more helpful.
When I paid for your camp and made your mother cry…
It was something that you needed whether our relationship was forged with birth blood or from time shared.
I just did what a father needs to do.

03/22/2015

samples of frames menories

03/17/2015

Sample

Subway

“Ready for breakfast?”
“Yes sir.”
“Where you want to go,” my own mind wanders to blueberries and crisp bacon, “House of Pancakes?”
I could almost taste, the sweet blueberry pancakes, thinking they sounded oh so good, but apparently. Not to Logan.
“We have to go to subway.”
Ok, I liked subway. Maybe not as much as fresh blueberries pancake, but there were worse places to eat. On my last visit, I had used the promise of Subway’s fresh chocolate chip cookies to get Logan out of bed into a semi-coherent mood for school.
Yes it was a bride, but unfortunately Logan came from a long female line of less than cheerful morning people. Logan’s mother, Jody had accented the point as a child, by backing handing her brother to the floor with a single swing. He refused to ever wake up his big sister after the incident.
The shop closest to my daughter’s place was one of my favorite places in Houston, but blueberry pancakes.
“We could go there tomorrow?”
No fair!
Logan hit me with her best puppy dog eyes. I should have been beyond their effects; after all I had fathered the supreme expert on the use of puppy dog eyes. No one, not even Logan could match her mother’s puppy dog eyes and timing. Jody could have charmed the lies out of a politician and gotten him to speak the truth. But it had been months since I had seen Logan, and absence makes the heart grow fonder, and turns grandpa into an easy touch.
So, twenty minutes later we were in line, and waiting for Logan’s bread, mayo, tomato and pickle sandwich. Me, I had settled for a tuna on toasted bread, not exactly blue berries pan cakes, but what can I say. It would have to do. About then my food musing were interrupted by a blond hair urchin twisting around to throw a pair of arms up around my waist.
“Granpa, subway is our place!”
“It is?”
Logan nodded with an extra-large smile and blue eyes blazing happiness. I knew right than the tuna was going to taste a bit better, but I didn’t know how much better until Logan added her next words. They came out with the naked emotion only a child can master. There was no covering of self-interest, or thought to what it meant. There was just the truth as they saw it.
“Grandpa, I love you.”
I held back my tears and was damn glad to discover tuna sandwiches were so much better than blueberries pancakes for breakfast,