A look back at a post about Labor Day weekend and the memories it evokes.
I wrote this on a Labor Day weekend, a few years ago and today, on the eve of this weekend that signals the end of summer, I sit here and reflect on what those weekends meant to me.
Melancholy has a way of creeping into my brain on the eve of this weekend. On this night, chances are Joanie and I would have been on the road headed for Minneapolis and St. Paul with a stop in St. Cloud at Joe and Joni’s.
I read this again, and really couldn’t think of much I would change about it, so I post it again as a reflection on happier times.
Both Joanie and my youngest sister, Joni, are gone now, and I think that adds to the bittersweet remembrance that comes to me every year about this time.
A Reflection.
It was our weekend for years.
On a Thursday or Friday…
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