My Daddy Cut the Cheese

 Daddy always said holidays were just another day. Each holiday if you wished him a happy day or gave him a present he would say “it's just another day” and pass off the importance of the special day. In 2012 for Father's Day, Dad did this very thing when I gave him a book on Appalachian history. He thanked me but said “you shouldn't have its just another day” Dad was a speed reader and the next morning he was sharing with me stories and photos from this gift that would be the last holiday present I was able to give him. He passed away a little over a month later. So as the special holidays approach and everyone centers around loved ones, I try to follow Dad's example and pass it off as “Just another day” in order not to feel loss and keep my emotions in check but it is the regular days and the little things that creep up and bring memories so strong that they bring me to tears.

The little things ... a flag flying, a news story, tomatoes, a rusty antique a bit of history that I can't wait to share with Dad when I remember I have to talk to the Heavens now. Or like the simple sight of sliced cheese. You see my Daddy always cut the cheese. Dad worked 2 to 10 at Alcoa and on the normal school days I didn't get to see him so much. I would sneak and stay up late at night to see Daddy before I went to bed. Almost each night Dad would come in and slice him a plate of cheese. He would pretend not to see that I was up past my bedtime. After leaving the cheese on the plate he would go into the bathroom to clean up and change clothes and I would sneak and eat his cheese. He would come out proclaiming “we must have a mouse” because something had happened to his cheese. I thought I was doing something by stealing his cheese and then sneaking back to bed each night but now looking back I know it was actually HE who was doing something oh so special. He was cutting that cheese as a treat special for me to share that special Daddy daughter time. Priceless memories. Love you Daddy! Happy Fathers Day!


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