Our Aunt Diane recently shared this memory of my brother with me:
I always loved Erik -- and have so many memories of him playing the guitar at Mamie's and singing "Little Green Apples". I will never forget the lesson he taught me when our families met at the beach one summer. He and I would go out shell hunting and he would come back with every shell he found -- whether it was broken or not -- he treasured every one. By the end of the week his washed shells covered the railings of the deck! I have told that story many times because I think we all need to be able to see beauty like that -- even in the "broken" things of life.
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| beauty in the broken things. |
