I'm feeling a little melancholoy as Father's day approaches. It seems everywhere I look lately, I see older men wearing suspenders. It reminds me of my step-dad, Jim, who would whip out his pilot's license (from when he was in the Navy as a young man) and talk a stranger's ear off about it. In his later days, he could barely shuffle around in his slippers, navy blue work pants, blue chambray shirt and suspenders. But he could still whip out that pilot's license.
My dad, Willard, was silly, childish at times, a gambler, a Jack of all trades but master of none, and the first man who ever made me laugh or cry. He was the greatest story teller ever! May they both rest in peace.
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