Labor Day

I am writing in my sleep. If I slur my words, you will know why.

Today was Labor Day. We have been known, in years long gone, to have giant holiday picnics. Today we didn't. Instead we accepted the invitation of friends and went to a picnic instead. It was nice to sit and relax, visit with friends, and enjoy a day out.

Today it is September. Sweet, and sometimes sad, September. A month of memories. I find myself looking forward to a much anticipated cross country flight and a visit with my friend Wanda, another almost cross country flight to Minnesota where my little

grandson waits, and I find myself looking back on sweet memories of my daddy. September 28 is my own special day of remembrance. I call it "Wear Dad's Shirt Day" and I will pull that old flannel shirt of Dad's out of my closet, put it on, and remember my dad. Perhaps I'd better pack it in my suitcase just in case I'm still in Minnesota or on my way home when "Wear Dad's Shirt Day" comes along. I'd hate to miss it.