Dad's Story

This is a story that I have been working on for training. I'm not quite finished yet but I thought I would share. All of this is true but may have happened at different times. Enjoy!

Collecting Coins

It is one of those Saturday mornings when you wake up early but feel very rested. No alarm clock, no plans. I lay in bed basking in the comfort of my covers and stretch. I poke my toes out and wiggle them. Just as I am thinking of drifting off again, I am suddenly startled by a loud pouring sound coming from the other room. As I try to place it, a vaguely familiar scent wafts into my nostrils. I grab my glasses and make my way to the door.

I step into the living room. The inviting couch and large chair do not catch my eye. Instead, I look past them and into the breakfast nook. I am hit by a scene that confirms the fact that my dad is a nerd. Sunlight filters through the curtains and illuminates a table littered with coins, collection books, and the source of the smell – Brasso. Dad is on a mission: Find a 1984 D penny to complete his first book. He meticulously searches the coins has saved for months.

I walk into the room, ready to lovingly shoot a sarcastic comment at him, when he finds it. His face lights up with satisfaction as he reaches for a white cloth and the Brasso. He makes the penny shine like new. He pops it into the book and gives it one final wipe to remove his fingerprint. He glances up as he lays the book aside and reaches for another. He greets me with his usual, “Hey!”

I could read or watch TV, leaving him to his work. Instead, I settle myself into the chair across from him. He opens his book and glances over the open slots. Dimes. I hate dimes. Their dates are the hardest to read. I adjust my glasses and ask, “What’s next?”

After learning the year and mint, our fingers dig through the coins. As we discard dime after dime, we begin to talk. What happened during out week, plans of what’s coming up, concerns about family.

“Found it!” Using just the cloth, he shines the dime, pops it in place, and rubs the fingerprint off. On to the next coin.

As we seek out another dime, he tells me about something that happened at work. He is an adult probation officer and one of his men threatened to “tell his dad!” We laugh and comment on the similarity with my students. We shift to talking about his latest meeting at church. He is a leader there and throws his time and heart into this responsibly. This leads to a discussion about my grandparents. Eventually I am asking for my favorite stories about him as a boy. I hear about the time he accidentally called his parents drunks and CPS investigated the family. Then we laugh about the time Grandma left a frozen turkey in the trunk of the car for days. This leads to a discussion about Grandma’s obsession with the wide variety of apples and everyone’s favorite birthday cake. As a lull in the conversation, Mom snores loudly and we exchange a look that says “Holy Cow!”

I stop to watch him as he talks and I realize what is going on. For an hour, our chaotic week has stopped. Dad is actually taking some time for himself. I rack my brain and I cannot recall the last time he has had the chance to do something for himself.

“Remember this!” I tell myself. Remember the sun and cluttered table. Remember the smell of the Brasso. Remember the sounds of change clinking and Mom sleeping in the other room. Remember Dad in his robe, bed head, and glasses sliding down his nose. Remember our conversation. Remember his busy life and how he shared his rare, quiet morning with me. Just the two of us.

Click! The mental picture is taken and is forever stored in my mind and heart. My eyes drift to the books of coins off to this left. I smile. I sit surrounded by money and it pales in comparison to the value of this moment.

“Got it!” He smiles as he shines the dime.

“Me too,” I think. “Me too!”