The last things touched

I remember when my dad died, I would go downstairs to his little sculpting area and sit and look at things realizing that he put them in the spot they now layed and they had not been disturbed by others.  We remodeled the house and moved in after my mom died 8 years later and his little niche in the world still hadn’t been moved.  I couldn’t bear doing it so He had to clean it up.  AS I plowed through his pack rat corners to toss or keep things I thought were important, I disturbed the memories….then when we moved to KC, we really broke the spell.

I pulled his old sled out of the storage room today to use as a winter decoration and I stalled looking at the rope he had probably tied on it.  


I also recognized the “G” he painted on it.  Exactly like the G he used to put on his flashlights and lunch box in order to identify them when he worked in the factory.  At that time, he changed his initials….same G but also put an M half inside the circle and half outside the circle.  MG for Marvin Green.  MY dad would have been 100 years old November of this year so this is an old sled!….and I can only imagine him as a kid sliding down a big farm hill into the snow covered cornfield.

Oh…memories!

Until next time….

4 thoughts on “The last things touched

  1. It’s the little things that mean so much. I bet he was a great guy.

    Like

  2. What is it about sleds? I have the old Flexible Flyer my dad used to pull out every time we went sledding when I was young. Reminds me of him and good times. I’m glad your dad’s sled brings you joy.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. how precious and emotional is this post…. May your dad rest in peace

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s