I have a lot of my father’s possessions. So much of them are just displayed around the house. Some things, like beautiful brandy snifters, are displayed in a china cabinet collecting dust. I even have a few bottles of expensive liquor. That was my father’s thing – “tip well and buy good liquor.” Ah, the things I learned from my father. Recently, I’ve been thinking I should use these items. What’s the point of just looking at things I can use? I know my father would be the first to agree.
The timing is perfect. My husband just finished his man cave/bar. We’re having an open house for alumni from Fishburne Military School. The class of 2006 is having its 10th reunion. These boys are now successful young men. Many are my former students. Most of them contributed to my gray hair. I never thought I would be having a drink with my boys in my home with my father’s glasses. Yes, I’m proud of them.
My father met a lot of these boys a decade ago. If he were still alive, I know he would be joining us and reminiscing with them. He would laugh at the mischief they got into and glow as they tell us of what they have accomplished. I can picture him sitting in the bar with these young men, pausing, and then saying, “Now I remember! That was you!” Then he would have that hearty laugh I’ll never forget.
I can picture myself saying the boys gave me some sleepless nights. His response would be just as it was a decade ago. “That school made them men.” My father enjoyed watching the Corps. He was impressed with their manners. He was amazed with their marching. He was in awe of their discipline. I remember my father telling me he couldn’t believe how these little boys looked so sharp in a uniform and how polite they all were. My father and I have a lot in common. Perhaps that’s why I enjoyed my time at Fishburne so much.
I have plenty of food for the occasion. That’s something else I learned from my father as well as his siblings. They survived WWII Germany and remember hunger. They all swore they would never be hungry again. All of them always had stocked food, drink, and their homes were open for a good time. They remembered the bad times so any time is a good time to have a get together. I have been spared such hard times, I observed my father, and I have my home open for good times.
The possessions are just a means for entertaining. I’m not just looking at them anymore. My father never just looked at his possessions. He used them or else it would have been a waste.
I will feel my father’s presence tonight. Now, my husband will be behind a bar he built. Hanging next to him is an oil painting my father had at his bars. Glasses he used will be used. It will be a mixture of my husband, father, and me. We will have fun. And you can bet your sweet ass we’re cracking open my father’s bottle of St. Remy Napoleon Brady. I don’t even like brandy but I’m giving it a whirl. Just a little sip out of the clean brandy snifters. My father would be happy we finally opened it.
My healing journey continues. Join me. We can drink out of some pretty glasses.
(Henry Alfred Rudolph. Born April 2, 1930. Died March 2, 2015.)
Column by Linda R. Jones
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