On Sunday afternoons when I was in college, my dad routinely washed the headlights and windshield on my truck with a homemade vinegar mix and newspaper just before I left for school. It taught me how fragile our lives are and more about love.
It isn’t so much for me but for you -- those silly little instructional/informational labels I place on everything from the breaker box, to the well head enclosure, to the technology surrounding anything voice, data, satellite or television antenna systems.
I have a good memory and except for very short term items, I really don’t need these for me; at least not yet. You see sometimes, I imagine if I’m gone before you, I hope you will be able to find some semblance of sense in it all. It isn’t so important, but rather something small, because then I won’t be able to make you coffee in the morning, check the air in your tires or fill your washer fluid bottle with “blue stuff”.