When I think of my dad as "Dad" and not the "Grandpa" stage of his life, I have two versions in my memory...and they revolve around the length of his shirt sleeves.
I think I was probably 12 or 13 before I ever saw him wear short sleeves in public. And it wasn't until the late 70's that I ever saw him go anywhere without a cap on his head.
When I was little, He was always dressed for work: either at the Station or Farming.
This picture shows this perfectly.
The Farmer in the Mobil uniform shirt.
His hands and face were darkly tanned.
But his arms and top of his head were untouched by the sun.
That was, until he retired.
That was, until he retired.
In his post Log Cabin life, he turned that tan into a normal farmer's tan by wearing short sleeves during long hours of fishing in Florida.
So there's the long and short of my two versions of "Dad."
I suppose most of us remember him this way:
as Dad and/or Grandpa (Papa) Bob
But, if I have to sum up my memory of him in one picture...
this one is a favorite and might be it.
No matter what version,
I love and miss him on Father's day and everyday.
1 comment:
Long-sleeved Hardings work shirts or cut off sleeves. My dad was rarely in anything else. I'm doing more smiling than crying this time around.
Post a Comment