Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Ahhh, I Love the Smell of Brut in the Mornings...

So I've blogged about my mom, my siblings, my Ryan, my kids, but not about one pretty important fella in my life, my dad :) 

When I think about my dad, lots comes to mind.  He is by far the hardest worker I have ever known.  I remember him working in the fields of our farm from sun-up to sundown and never missing a day.  I remember him watching "Magnum, P.I." while eating a big bowl of popcorn and laughing his head off while watching "Cheers".  I remember how wonderful he smelled after coming in from the field and taking a shower.  I loved curling up in his lap in his hideous brown La-Z-Boy recliner and inhaling the classy smell of Brut Cologne and I knew it was a special occasion when he would splash on a little English Leather instead of Brut :) I loved when he would read the book of Ephesians to me and because of that, Paul has always been my favorite person in the Bible. 

My dad and I live miles apart now, but I don't feel like he's that far away.  Little things that I come across during my day make me think of him.  Whenever I hear any song by Journey or Hall & Oates, it makes me smile because it reminds me that I inherited his bad taste in music (sorry Dad, it's the truth!)  Whenever I chew cinnamon gum it reminds me of how he always kept a pack in his pocket.  Whenever I hear Allison begging Ryan to not embarrass her in front of her friends, I have to laugh because I remember being in her shoes.  I can't tell her enough though how much she's going to miss that someday. 

I'm so thankful for my sweet dad and the relationship we have.  I'm so thankful that he's just a phone call away and I love that he still answers my calls by saying, "Hey, Wincey-Pooh!"  It melts heart...okay, so does the smell of Brut :)

3 comments:

barryb said...

Wonderful story. Thankful daughter. Thankful Father.

Jane said...

I love Dad stories. I have a wonderful Dad too and I lots of wonderful memories like yours. Thanks for sharing!

Kelly said...

Lindsey, my dad also kept a pack of cinnamon gum in his pocket all the time (Big Red in his shirt pocket). I would ask him for a piece and he would give me half of one. The smell of Big Red always makes me think of him. :-) We are so blessed to have sweet daddies.