My dad liked to say, “When life gives you lemons, cut a slice and squeeze it in your papercuts. It’s a natural antiseptic.”
He was the practical sort. He never liked putting anything to waste. Whether it was scraping banana peels into a compost bin or flipping Mom’s old art studio into a guest bedroom. My dad could make monuments from the dirt under his nails. He always made something from the scraps that others left behind. That’s why he planted roses over my mom’s grave.
“See?” he said, “Now everyone who comes here might guess how beautiful your mom was.”