His basement workspace, still a mess of wires and intricate electronics he'd disassembled for fun.
The inside of his dresser drawer, a collection box for amateur radio certificates, thank-you gifts from Norfolk Southern, cards from my mom and hand-scribbled pictures from my siblings and me.
The window in our dining room where he used to watch the neighborhood activity.
His favorite spot on the couch.
The images sat quietly on my computer for a year or so until I realized they told a story about my dad's life. Then they sat on my website for another year, until I submitted them to my university's student-run gallery. Two months later, surrounded by three walls of the framed images, I comfortably discussed my dad with perfect, inquiring strangers.
The collection had had a good run, I thought. Unplanned, but good. I was happy that others had gotten to know a person the world was now short of.
Then last month, the publisher of Shenandoah Living — the magazine I've been freelancing for — asked to run the collection in their January/February issue. Though the request caught me off guard, I'm thrilled that the photos are getting another chance to speak. Five years after his death, my dad's legacy shines brighter than ever.
View the digital issue now.