Dad’s Treasures

Last week sometime, I finally took to the task of transferring all of dad’s belongings that were given to me into plastic storage bins. I didn’t get rid of a single thing…not even his loose pocket change. I’m not ready to do that yet.

I had left all of the boxes in our room since Christmas, all scattered and open with dad’s things sitting there to greet me every morning. It’s been hard. So it was time to go through it and move it.

There was one particular box I hadn’t had the heart to go through yet, which was the last box given to me. As I went through it, I started to notice some really old letters and funny forms…as I looked closer, I realized they were letters home and things (including currency) from his service in Vietnam. I even found a little paper slip for issued bedding, and a large group photo from boot camp, with handwritten names on the back that dad had scribbled out.

I also found an old drawing that I assume was his. The paper was so thin and frail that I had to hold it very carefully to keep from ripping it.

Dad was an artist, just like his father. It’s something that I was blessed with when I was born, and I am very thankful to carry that with me.

Of course I found a few more fun pictures…including this one of him cleaning fish in a river. Dad loved ‘roughing’ it. I think if he could, he would have lived in a little cabin in the woods up in Alaska. He loved to fish, carry guns, chop wood for campfires, and play with fireworks (and other explosives, haha). I’m proud to carry that with me. I have always been a tomboy. Even in my moments of feeling girly, I always go back to jeans and t-shirts.

I look forward to teaching our kids how to fish and camp in Alaska someday. I only hope I can do dad’s teachings justice. I might tangle a fishing line or two, but I can’t wait to have the chance to pass his life-loving legacy on. :-)