Sunday, September 2, 2012
"It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living." -- F. Scott Fitzgerald
It was always a sunny smile, my dad's. A master of levity, Pop injected humor and silliness into most everything he did. He infectious laugh brought smiles to anyone in its radius, the scar above his lip glinting under light like polished glass. For the life of me, I can't remember how he got the scar. All I know is that it added a richness to his character, like biscuits soaked in honey and butter -- you could never get enough.
This from someone who served in the Air Force and who also was a law enforcement veteran of 32 years. Anyone who ever worked with him shared the same sentiment -- from the most hardened cops and criminals (who he called his customers), to literal strangers he'd meet on the street, in the store, in the campground, in the post office, in the doctor's office...everyone experienced his sunny disposition, his goofy humor and his viral smile.
He inspired me to do the same, to be silly, to embrace life and all the people in it, to give life and all the people in it a second and third chance, to laugh in the face of adversity -- while at the same time tackling it and pinning it to the ground. Mercy me, that ain't easy, but his gumption combined with the Mama's has helped me keep it pinned to the ground.
And when the Mama and I started the B-hive, we knew we'd go all in. For us, there was and is no alternative; your children B-come your life, and your life B-comes more beautiful, more vibrantly alive with wondrous mess, like crayons melting together beyond the lines and creating pictures we never thought possible.
Pictures of rainbows and silly faces and sunny smiles and birthday hats. There's enough darkness out there as it is. I prefer to stay in the lightness of Pop.