Daddy's Paper Route and Mama's New Friend

This story really does make me laugh out loud! I hope you have the same response.

My dad was a cook for the majority of his life. And everybody knew him! He threw his hand up waving at people left and right. I loved that about my dad; he was charismatic but so so humble and gentle. He was a good man.

When he retired from cooking, it wasn’t long before he got bored. So, in his 70's he took on a paper route! My mom was still a nurse at the time, but, on most days, she would help out as well. They would leave early (like 2 AM early) to deliver papers. When I would visit, I would accompany them and, to be honest, these are some of my most cherished memories. One of my favorite parts of these adventures happened near the end of each trip. We would make a pit stop at this same little gas station (Wilco at Bassett Forks, VA) and daddy would always buy us a pastry and we would sip coffee and eat that pastry on our morning break. It was so simple and so absolutely perfect.

Well, before I start tearing up, I better get to the hilarious story.

Now, daddy, was pretty reserved with his emotions. He was extremely friendly and well-liked but he wasn’t one to fill a room with the sound of his laughter. He smiled, gently, and laughed, quietly. That detail is important to this story.

So, one of these mornings, mama was in the front passenger seat and daddy was driving. And everything was going as it normally went. Daddy had gotten up earlier than us, he had brewed a pot of coffee, and warmed up the car. Well, on this particular morning, about halfway through the route, daddy pulled the car off of Oak Level Rd. and headed up the hill to make that street’s deliveries. (Oh my goodness, I am so excited to get to the funny part that I just want to blurt it out!) Well, they were both a little tired and kind of doing the paper route that morning on autopilot; thinking more about the upcoming pit stop than the work at hand. This peaceful, typical morning then changed dramatically. We pulled up to a house and when mama reached to put a paper in the box, a bird flew out of it, flew into the car, flapped its wings in all-out-panic, pooped on my mom, and flew back out the window! BAHAHAHAHAHAHA Daddy…oh my gosh…Daddy was laughing so hard I thought he’d run the car in a ditch. HUGE loud laughing that was so unlike any I’d ever seen. For that amazing moment he was a teenager again. Mama, though uncomfortable with her new accoutrement, realized the absurdity and humor and laughed almost as much. It was the kind of laughter that, even when you think it’s done, starts again anew. During those precious moments I watched as my parents instantly transformed into teenagers again. 

These stories; these memories…they are so precious. Isn’t it crazy how, when in the heat of the moment, a situation can be so stressful, but, on the other side of it, having lived to tell the story, it can be so deliciously hilarious?! As I look back at my life, I find that the memories I return to time and time again…the truly treasured moments of my life…they are not from any travels to other countries or accomplishments, or purchases, though those moments can be nice. The best ones…the ones that show up in my heart and mind, those memories are always of the simplest of joys. The gas station pastries with mom and dad, the kitchen-table coffee-talks, sitting on my grandmother’s porch at night drinking Dr. Pepper as she pointed out constellations, helping mom with her crossword puzzles…these are the memories that continually inspire me. They come with some special warmth; something I cannot set to words. Today, maybe we can set aside our ambitions and thoughts of what might be and experience some simple joy, because, I have a feeling they are what living is really about.

I continue to be,

Jamie   

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