I just decided to revive my blog & found this post that I never completed from several years ago & have decided to post it to preserve the memories. Put yourself in my shoes. This memory is dear to my heart...
Last night, in a bout of desperation, I convinced my mother to see a 10:40PM showing of Eat Pray Love. She was at a dinner date with a friend at the time, and her date ended up joining us for the movie. Turns out, this friend was actually one of my dad closest friends from work at Bellsouth. Before she left us at 1:10AM this morning, she unloaded several boxes of miscellaneous things that had been packed at my dad's office when he passed.
Arriving home last night (well, this morning...), I was naturally curious to see what the two heavy boxes held. Without further ado, I proceeded to open both boxes and assemble the items contained in them on our living room coffee table. Memories were unleashed as I fought back tears, seeing the simple items that he had treasured enough to make room for in his cubicle. At the top of the stack were framed pictures of my brother and I, as well as shots of the four of us - Mom, Daddy, Patch, and me. There were high school pictures of Kristy and Teri and photographs of his grandkids - Lyndsie, Koby, and Kristopher. There was a small album of pictures I'd never seen before - me with Santa Claus, rolling a snowman, in the mountains with Daddy. Continuing, I pulled out awards he'd been given by the company along with innumerable letters and cards from friends who clearly had admired the man he was. There were several pocketknives of various sizes as well as a few larger knives (scary man! lol). He had coffee mugs, an array of dental hygiene products - four containers of dental floss, three toothbrushes, and a tube of toothpaste - as well as several carvings and paperweights and even gifts that Patrick and I had given him for past birthdays and Father's Days.
Most dear for me among his collection, however, was his plane memorabilia. My dad was a sergeant in the U.S. Air Force and fought in Vietnam. I remember going to air shows across the state from a young age. I can remember standing with Daddy on the base as he told me about the different planes and showed me the kinds that he had flown in. I was introduced to pilots and had every kind of autographed picture stuffed into my hands by men who had been friends of my dad. I sat on the wings on fighter jets for a picture and reached in my pink knapsack for my Mickey Mouse camera to take pictures of the fighter pilots performing an air show. Daddy taught me about the plane and let me ride piggy-back when I got tired of walking around all day. But he never lost interest; he was always fascinated. Among his most prized possessions at his office were his plane models, calendars, and huge framed photographs.
Looking through everything that has been lost to us for ten years brought back so many memories. It was reassuring to read notes from his fri
