there once was a man...

As I sat drinking coffee and thinking, as I usually do in the morning, I found myself thinking about my dad. Back in the day, he had coffee to start his day too. He wasn't afraid of a little sugar and creamer to help break up the sometimes cheap bitter flavor. I don't know if he would have used a sugar substitute... he was diabetic, but rarely took that into consideration. In the 80s, there weren't nearly as many options for sugar substitutes, but then, those were pricey, and he kept things simple when it came to grocery needs. About all he wanted was peanut butter, white bread, and soda. And coffee.

My dad was a hard worker. He started out with his own business as a car mechanic with a friend who ended up being a life-long car salesman. After a while, a certain wealthy telephone company owner in Spencerport caught his eye, and he asked my dad to join his team, working on telephone poles and servicing people's phone needs. He did that for 19 years. Hard work really, and brutal in the winter, when he'd have to wear all sorts of extra clothes and still be nimble enough to climb those poles. He didn't want anything to do with a desk job though, and often was offered the opportunity, but chose to stay out in the elements. He fell once or twice from those poles, injuring his heels as he fell and landed right on them. He was out of work for a while for that... Overall I think he felt he did his best, and worked as hard as he could for his family.

Our life was a decent one - never had a lot, but always made it. Fridays were paydays and he'd always come home with some of his favorite junk foods: a loaf of italian bread, a pound of real butter (mostly for my mother's sake), a jar of pepperocini, and a jar of green olives. We had homemade pizza most Friday nights. Mom would make it on her well worn cookie sheet... mostly cheese and pepperoni. Pizza, soda, and television crowded our Friday evenings. It was family time... with the addition of my brother's or my friend we could bring home for the evening on Friday nights. When that happened, mom would make homemade chocolate chip cookies for us to enjoy. She made the best cookies! Ah, good memories. My friends still harken back to those nights... it was good.

My dad wasn't meant for a long life... he ended up with cancer at the age of 49, and didn't last through that year. I was in college, and my brother was working and supporting his 3 year old son - we all lived together. As the months grew harder for him, we all tried to make things as easy as possible for him. He had some luck with a trial drug study, but that soon faded. He gave up after that. Didn't have the will to fight what he knew internally was going to be his demise. I don't blame him... it's tough to be in pain all the time, and feel so helpless and scared.

Some of the things I remember are the coffee in the mornings. I still have the cup he used to favor. He would lace up his tall work boots, wear a long sleeved flannel shirt, tuck a handkerchief in his back pocket, and had a big leather belt with an even bigger buckle on it. Never understood the need for big belt buckles... but he seemed to like it. Before he went out the door, he'd kiss me and mom goodbye. Those are the moments I remember. The moments when it was just him and me... when I had his attention, even for a brief moment. He and I were a lot alike - very inward, and short on things to say when it came to matters of the heart. I knew he loved me. I still have little notes he wrote me saying so. Those are the things I keep...

He loved softball... played, coached, and latter umpired when he couldn't play any longer. He ump'ed until he was too ill to do it anymore. I think he tried to live normally for himself and for us as long as possible. He was a good man to a lot of people. They remembered him and honored him at his memorial service - packing the church to the brim. I think he touched more lives than he realized.

So here I sit with my coffee... thinking about a man who has slipped through my life, onto life eternal. It's been a long time... but he's still with me every day. I miss my dad. I often wonder the type of man he'd be now - retired, relaxed... tinkering with engines and enjoying the old corvette that my mother still has to this day. Simple life, that was what he liked. Nothing fancy, nothing in the lime light. Just a man, loving the Lord, living the best life he knew how. I try to emulate that... and be a lover of Christ, a lover of simple life, and a blessing to others. I think he'd be pleased with who I am now. I'll have to ask him when I see him again...