Tuesday, April 3, 2018
So yet again the sun has come and gone. And the cold night shivers away another life that has past away in the dark. Like the flame of a candle blown out from the winds of night. Her warm glow will be missed by many, and my her memory's be the smoke that now taken the place her flame once burned, though the fire died out. But the smoke will continue to dance up in to the sky from the memories that remain in us all.
I never really knew how Diane was related to me, till the time was already past. As to all the times I spent with her my mother, my brother and of corse her brother whom was my grandfather. But as a young trouble making boy I was I was always far more interested in exploring my grandfathers farm land out in Athabasca on the deseled fueled atv, then regards to tea time in the house. But now that I am older I wish I did listen to a few more of their stories. As to with interest of mapping out all the branches that branch out our rather larger than most family tree, I start to realize it may so be larger then that.
--Words from my memorys, Cody D. Smith the younger son of Joanne Simons.
