Dear Fellow Crafter,

The following is a piece written by a writer for my Journal Blog, “G”. It was written in 2011 and is entitled “My Favorite Pic of my Dad.”

I have been thinking a lot of my own Dad, now gone over twenty-five years. This piece is about my favorite picture of him.

My Dad, as I’ve mentioned in this forum many times, was a man of simple tastes and wants. Dad’s idea of a “fun time” on Saturday afternoon was tinkering around on his car and its’ engine. He just LOVED doing that. All Dad needed for complete happiness was a pack of Camels (unfiltered of course. No wonder I NEVER took up smoking) and a six-pack of Schaffer beer. (Do they still even make that anymore. Yes, I did take up beer drinking, but NEVER Schaffer!)

Anyway, one Saturday slightly before his death, I joined Dad, just to watch, because, as everyone knows, I have NO mechanical ability. He handed me one of the Schaffers, and told me to listen carefully. He then proceeded to give me a list of seven things which I either Must do, or must NEVER do after he died. I wrote them on the back of an oil filter box he was changing.

“I won’t tell you how to do these things, you’re far too intelligent for that, and can do that much better than I can, but you must understand that I want them done. You hear me mister?”

Now Dad only called me MISTER when giving an order that left no answer but yes

“Gotcha’ Dad!”

Dad nodded his head in satisfaction.

About the time we were done, Dads’ friend and neighbor Ernie came by. He had a new camera.

‘Take a picture of my son and me” Dad said.

Well, someone must have made some funny remark just as the camera went off. The picture shows Dad, all 5’9” of him, his already slight build made that much smaller because of the cancer that had been eating away at him for over a year, slightly bending over, his hands around my waist, mine over his shoulder, him howling with laughter.

Despite this “Mutt and Jeff” “Godzilla and the Midget” image, it is my favorite all time pic of me with my Dad.

After Dad died, I faithfully did each of the things he ordered, going down the list until I could check each one completed. He’d be pleased.

I have this feeling that after I die and get to the pearly gates, stand at attention in front of St Pete, salute, and say “Another Marine reporting Sir, I’ve already spent my time in hell!” He’s going to say:

“OK kid, come on in. Your Father is over there waiting for you.”

Then, as an aside, he’ll put his hand to the side of his face, and say:

“Look out! He still smokes Camels and drinks Schaffer!”

OK Dad, I’ll see you when I see you. Wait for me. BUT PLEEEESE, have something for me other than Schaffers!

Happy Father’s Day!