It's not without reservation that I post this content. These are the notes for a speech my deceased Father wrote for his own 60th birthday party. But I promised him, when he was well and when he was nearly an angel, that his stories would continue. And so on the oddest of days, his very own words end up on an obsecure blog. . .
At any rate, let me tell you how I stumbled upon these two little folded up sheets of legal paper this evening. . .
I'm in charge of the tax return at HomeEckWreck. I'm a stickler for organization and most years it goes smoothly. This allows me to procrastinate until the eleventh hour and still giterdone.
This year could be the exception. Obviously I wasn't thinking very clearly when all of the tax reporting documents arrived in the mail this year. I apparently stuffed a few in an undisclosed location (SHREDDER?).
This evening, I was ripping apart the house looking for my W-2 and a mortgage statement. I looked in the most unlikely of places. I was trying to retrace my steps from late December and early January - which are pretty much hazy given the events. Needless to say, I didn't find either document.
But when I yanked open the middle drawer of In-Law-Great Grandma Clark's dresser. . .in the dim light of the cruddy "living room". . .I caught out of the corner of my right eye, this folded up, gleaming white paper.
It was in a large Ziploc bag labeled "Dad's 60th." There were also photos, and other speeches, and menus, and news paper clippings - things I kept to make a little album for him. I didn't make the album in time.
Funny thing about his notes? He refers to the IRS! He was an itinerant construction worker for a number of years. . .
I like the idea of being itinerant. I love his handwriting. I love how his notes, thoughts, ideas, find me - often when I need them the most.
Dad's words serve as a reminder to me that life is to be enjoyed. . .to be lived to the fullest - everyday. Don't dare take a moment for granted. Work hard. Play harder. Be proud. Give much. Learn much. Dream big. Hold tight. Enjoy the ride.
And pay your taxes. . .Because as Dad would say, "Aw, dL fighing with the IRS is a 'fate worse than death.'"
I'd still be curious to know where my W-2 is? And maybe Dexter? I'm sleepy!!!
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