April painted this picture in college. The assignment was to create a painting from a black and white photograph. It has always warmed my heart that she chose this snapshot of Dad and me.
Mama took this picture. I know I was wearing his big, old work boots. Mama may have left them out of the picture when she framed the shot… or April ran out of room on the canvas. I’ve not seen the original snapshot in years, so I don’t know.
This picture brings back the memories of excitement a child feels when Daddy gets home at the end of the day. He is wearing his old Army hat and I can almost smell the earthy farm scents captured in my memories. I think I had a caterpillar in my hands. He would have been interested in my treasure.
This painting captures the moments I will never forget. The tender words and side of Dad many didn’t see. I know April felt the same memories as she painted this canvas.
This week I learned a little more about my dad from one of his best friends, Chuck. Because he lost his Mom when he was a young man, he was tender towards those who grieved. Chuck was our local funeral home director and is the picture of a professional in his work. He is a keeper of many secrets, I am sure.
Chuck had shared a little when Dad died, that he had occasionally stopped in to anonymously help with funeral expenses, if he thought the family was struggling. The families never knew. I thought he did it a time or two. I learned this week it was more his way. He would even do an additional check in the donations so he would not be a suspect.
He lived Roman 12:15-
Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep.
Loud and bold at times, but a gentle heart who knew it was better to give quietly out of true love of His Lord.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad.
Today, I am grateful for old pictures and paintings.
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