A video of my little chiquita.

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Star in Your Own JibJab! It's Free!

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Gerald Shepardson has passed away.

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Jennifer is a bit preoccupied with assisting her sister with the formalities of the passing of a loved one, so I hope I don't do any disservice to his memory by writing this blog post. Gerald, Gerry, or Papa Bear as Jennifer lovingly called him, is Jennifer's father. I believe he passed away on June 24th, 2008. He was 80. Grandpa Shepardson was a very talented man, a concert-level pianist and very intelligent. He did a wonderful job of preparing Jennifer to marry me, because he loved music, photography, thrift shopping, "STUFF", dry humor, bad puns, reading, sharing the knowledge of his passions, and sarcasm. I love him and was sad to hear of his passing. I'm not sure if I expressed to Jennifer my admiration for her father, but I certainly hope she knows that I have always felt him to be a kindred spirit from the day I met him face to face. We love you Papa Bear! You will be missed.
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YEAH!

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I thought I would post a quick post. I am very anxious to see Greg tomorrow! He is coming for the weekend and I can bearly contain myself. He gets discount rates now that his mom work for America West and so it makes it very nice and very convenient. I also found this picture and thought it would be very fun to post it on the site. This is the first picture Greg and I ever took together. This is at the Minneapolis airport July 30, 1993 - The first time we ever met. Aren't we cute....and YOUNG!!!! :-)
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Thanks for the company

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So last night when we talked and I knew you would come sit with me at the clinic today while Greg was in surgery, I never realized that you would actually send someone to do that. .. So I left Greg's bed side, completely emotional and freaking out (completely irrationally, of course) trying desperately not to fall apart as I walked downstairs to get something to eat. I get my food from the cafe and go to sit down. Every table has people sitting at them. As I tried to figure out where to eat, a woman motioned me to sit with her. She said, "I won't be here long". I sit down and we started talking. Her name was Pat and she lived in St. Louis Park. She came to the clinic for injections in her ankle for her arthritis. She was just having a cup of coffee before she left. We talked and talked - even about you. I learned about her children, her grand children and even her great grandchildren (one was born just last week). Finally I looked at the clock and realized th...
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