The Collector

Dad was a Collector

He collected coins. And cars. And trucks. And parts.

He collected guns. And fishing poles. And cookware.

He collected stories. And jokes. And smiles.

And moments and memories to cherish and hold dear.

And this is obvious when we think about his collections.

The Collector of Coins

These coins were not especially valuable, but he valued them.

These coins that caught his eyes were special.

He found them. He held them in his hands. He pulled them aside.

He paid attention and noticed and did something about it.

I like to imagine him holding these coins.

Admiring their unique beauty.

These weren’t just coins.

These were special coins.

These were his coins.

Just as the people around him weren’t just people.

These were special people.

His family, his friends, and his community.

The Collector of Cars

And trucks. And parts

The cars held little to no value to most people.

But he knew the value they could bring.

He knew that there would be someone who would need this car.

Someone who would need this part to get to work.

He knew that this could help someone take their family on vacation.

This car could free up money to be spent on food and clothes and housing.

He collected cars and parts to help people.

And these were his people.

His family, his friends, and his community.

The Collector of Fishing Poles

And guns. And cookware.

These were a means for food.

And shared memories.

And time together.

Talking and teaching and listening and learning.

Fishing at a pond or a lake. In a boat or on the shore.

Shooting in the woods or in a field. With target or clay pigeons.

Cooking at home or in church. Eating with family or friends.

The poles and guns and cookware represented time together.

Connecting with the family, friends and community he so loved.

The Collector of Stories

And jokes. And smiles.

Coins were special.

Cars and trucks and parts gave us transportation.

Poles and guns and cookware gave us meals and times together.

But I think what Dad loved most was sharing stories and jokes.

He loved to see people smile and laugh.

He loved to see people appreciate the funny moments of life.

He paid attention to life and found a way to make us smile.

He found a way to find joy.

He found a way to reach in his collection of stories.

He found a way to share memories and jokes.

And laughter and smiles.

From his collection that never seemed to stop growing.

Dad was a Collector

And we were the most valued part of his collection.

His family, his friends, and his community.

His memories of moments with us is what brought him joy.

I know that it is in the giving that we received.

And I know that Dad received much. Because he gave much.

So when we see an old coin or an old junk car,

or a fisherman, or a hunter, or a cook,

when we see a gleam in someone’s eyes

as they tell a story to coax a smile or a laugh,

let's take in these moments.

Collect Them

and hold them dear.

Look around. These are our treasures.

Take a moment to remember what mattered to Dad.

Connecting. And loving. And collecting and sharing

Let’s pay attention and notice the joys of life and each other.

Our families, our friends, and our communities.

That’s a pretty good lesson Dad gave us.

I think I’ll add that to my collection.

Photo by Twitter @ethmessages on Unsplash