For some reason the memory of my deceased brother came to mind. When he died, I was a teenage boy. I don’t remember him very well because he left the family unit when I was a young boy. I rarely saw or spent any time with him as I was growing up. Yet for some reason, I remembered that he liked to wear boots that resembled paratrooper boots. I remembered the room that he was confined to when he died of cancer. My mind’s eye saw his boots and the scorching Arizona sun coming through the room’s window onto his waiting boots.