Thirty-six and half years

Leaving the quick mart today, I was caught off-guard and transported back 25 years.

It was the smell.

Stale cigarette smoke mingled with a faint scent of coffee. Honestly, it stank. But the memory it evoked was dear to my heart, the smell was almost pleasant.

It was the exact smell on Dad's clothes when he came home from work each day. (Back then, indoor smoking was permitted in public buildings.) Even though my father was not a smoker himself, he would often reek of cigarettes from the habits of his co-workers. And coffee. Oh, the coffee. Dad was a heavy drinker when it came to a cup o'joe. In fact, he was known as the "Coffee Man" at work. He supplied the coffee, creamer and sugar for the office. He replaced the coffee maker when needed. And he purchased countless styrofoam cups for all.

Dad worked hard at his job. Thirty-six and a half years at one place brought stability and security for his family. Thirty-six and a half years is a long time. Dad was faithful and dedicated. I recall many early mornings of Mom ironing his shirts. And Dad sitting at the kitchen table wearing his white undershirt while he waited. He would be reading Our Daily Bread and the Scripture aloud while she ironed there in the hallway or cooked his breakfast--bacon and eggs and potato cakes or oatmeal. And Dad never reported off. He just went to work, illness or no illness.

Dad knew from experience the value of a good job. There were some lean days financially in his adulthood as he earned his way in this world, before he settled in to this one. I wish I could hear him tell again of his post-high school days of working in the greenhouse in Cleveland with Jamie (and falling through the roof, shattering the glass) and finding jobs in Detriot with Tom Sapp, living there with his sister Berta and hitch-hiking up and down the map. And his days of selling Watkins Products, and how he unintentionally almost killed his two young sons with those very products! (The details of those stories are becoming fuzzy to me.)

Today that one short unintentional whiff of rank odor reminded me of my Dad's loyal service to his employer and what he showed by example to his family.