In Memory Of My Nephew Trevor Dean Humphrey

May 10, 1973-January 13 1995

There are so many pictures, each with a memory.  And if we are reflective the laughter and light-heartedness of the moment can be sensed.  Even heard.

Trevor Dean, middle child of my brother Gary Humphrey, will always be just a memory away.  Pictures such as the one here at a park in late spring where Trevor poses on a stump is not just a static image.  There is the memory of him giggling and laughing about posing as  ‘he-man’, and then striking the pose.    I still recall him jumping off the stump, running to me and making sure that I knew he wanted a copy of that picture. 

I find as I grow older that looking through the picture books (now all transferred to the computer with a copy in our bank’s lock box) becomes a longer process.  I seem to linger and find that I laugh out loud at a memory or recall a story, and then tell it to James.  Even though I took a fair amount of pictures I still have a memory attached to each one.  And I find that there are far more smiles than tears.  That is the way we adapt and move on, but never forget.