The past present and future

Blogs are interesting aren't they.  You share.  You share this about that and as you do you think about not only who is reading but when might they read it.  I suspect I might read some of these entrees years from now.  I suspect my daughter might.  I wish my grandfather had left a blog.  I've never met him but for some reason feel a connection to him.  I've seen a little cabin on a lake he used to escape to and go fishing.  I've seen the blue spruce he planted in front of what was a new home to him and his family... and yesterday at lunch I walked to and stood in front of the home he lived in before that new home was built.  I stood and looked.  I looked at the brick and the stone base and big beautiful old tree in the front yard.  I stood on the front step and looked out onto the street.  I walked to the street corner and imagined my mom as a little girl looking across the street she wasn't aloud to cross alone.  I can't quit express what was going on... I just took it in.  Simply took it in and tried to imagine.  I think my great grandparents had been with them for a short time in that house too.  I have a concept of them also.  I wish I could know them more.  I've driven slowly by their old home in old Ottawa.  I was driving in the procession of cars on our way to burry their youngest daughter.  She was the last of that family to leave us.  The closing of an era.  I treasure the past.  I've always been one to do that.  I absorb it and keep it with me.  I go to these places and of course they're not there.  But in way... they are... or are they just with me...  I took a second pause when I first considered buying the home I'm in now... because there was a blue spruce on the front lawn.