Hi everybody. I’m the long-lost older daughter, Shaun…There are so many different versions of each of us, aren’t there? Right now I’m missing a very long ago Michael Griffen, because strangely the more recent version of him seems like he’s still right here… So, in a rambly manner: He was my daddy. He was very big in many ways – but not in others! He was actually quite skinny and I have always been able to reach all the way around him with my arms. He sang alot and often whooped. In fact, he worked on his whoop off and on for many years. He said I could make it across slippery logs over streams, and he was right. Every time! With an impish grin, but while still trying to look serious and philosophical, he asked me alot of questions that did not have answers but appeared for a moment as though they did. He often said, “Work it out between yourselves,” “Wait ’til I finish my coffee,” and “Go look it up in the dictionary.” He was one big idea after another. He was very good at rooster-crowing, banjo-playing, and grinning. He didn’t want to talk about his parents. They didn’t want to talk about him either. He loved just about everybody, but sometimes he loved just me. Which was good. Both. When I was a medium-sized girl, he had a way of holding me as he was tucking me in while sitting on the edge of my bed, letting me lay my torso in his arms so I could feel cradled, like a baby. I was especially happy when he let me hold the match over the bowl of his pipe while he was lighting it. He made delicious pancakes. Oh, he loved peanut butter! And coffee! Oh. He melted several old aluminum coffee pots completely into electric burners because he would go off and paint and forget them on the stove. We wondered about a lot of things together, and I am a very good wonderer now.