a father's lasting impression

It's 3-something AM and I can't sleep. A coughing, restless child has made it impossible, so lying in bed, my mind wanders. I recount the time spent with my parents, brother, his wife and daughters yesterday, as we laughed hysterically over bowls of mama's soul-warming homemade chili.

My mind wanders specifically to my daddy. I love how he doesn't change. The way he tells a story is one of the things I love most. Try to picture it: Anticipation rises as he clinches the right side of his mouth and grins through the left. He's stifling his laugh and trying to gain enough composure to tell the story that's bubbling up. He hurriedly gets a few words out, gives a hearty laugh, smooths his mustache and beard, and continues on. His eyes sparkle and dance as we're on the edge of our seats, just knowing it's going to be great.

One of my favorites is a story that honestly, I can't remember anything but the end of. It's a tale of a drunkard who encounters wasps in a wood pile. He spryly dances around, swatting at the air, yelling, "Woooo! Wasp-es! Wasp-es!" (Not much of a story, I know. Guess you'd have to be there to see the dancing and swatting re-enactment.)

Another is about a man trying to call home - collect - on a pay phone. He repeatedly tells the operator that he wants to call Lexington, but he can't pronounce the "L" and so it comes out "Wexington." She tells him she can't find any listings for a Wexington, Virginia, and there is no such place. He tells her, "the hewwl 'er ain't, I wiv' 'er!" >I'm in stitches every time!<

Oh, how it really, genuinely does my heart good to recount his silly stories. And how it aches to see him feeling older than his age. He's the epitome of hard work as a 60+ hour-a-week, calloused-hand farmer and mechanic. His obvious regret for all of the work-invested hours that maybe should have been family-invested is a heavy burden. Now that my brother and I are grown and have children, he realizes that time has passed him by. The reward for his realization is ours, as he makes time for his grandchildren and for us ... when we deduct our work-invested time to family-invest it with him.