I know I owe some photos. We don't have phone service at home yet, so that's off until Wednesday, or so.
October 25 is the third anniversary of the Wellstone crash. I don't have much to say. Today I saw something I had written a year after the crash and I'll repeat it here.
I took the kids to the cemetary to visit the grave. We brought pine branches from our trees at the farmhouse to lay where the headstone should have been. There was no marker, no stone, but the sight of the ground made me cry like I did the day it happened.
John wandered off. The grave is in the corner of the cemetery, and he walked over to the fence and looked at Lake Calhoun while I pulled myself together. Then he came back.
"Mama?" he said. "I think if you go look at the water, it will make you feel better."