The Fedora Hat

Reading Westras blog today, I remembered my own Dad.

His country house still stands and his fedora Hat is still hanging on the hook where he left it.

His boat and trailer is still in the garage.

Our scenic wall paper is still in the family room reminding us of all the nice pictures and times we had beside it.

I think , a time will come when it must come down but then I think, there are too many memories

here and the paper should be repainted and refreshed.

All the trees we planted together are tall now but his garden suffered because no one takes care of it and neighbors are

not what you expect.

They come in and help themselves to the flower bulbs and fruit trees robbing an unprotected property.

My Dad had a car standing there he kept to give to one of his grandchildren

and the neighbors came to ask me if they could take the hub caps.

I told them no. How arrogant of them to even ask, I thought . They replied, well we are nice.

We asked, but we could have taken them when you were not here.

This is where you learn what people are really like.

These are the same people who grazed on my parents garden and did nothing for themselves.

My parents worked and had plenty to share.

Now they ask when will you come and have a garden again? loll

I keep my Dads place because he built it and his last wish was for it to be passed onto his grandchildren because this was the only

Heritage he could leave them of himself. And so I keep the hat and glasses and some other things of his I want to frame and hang on the wall

For posterity.

Children don’t understand and not living there, we hardly made any memories for them out there.

Nevertheless, its our family place and we will return to it once the time is right.

Maybe we will make some memories, enough for them to want to come out there before we die.

The town however, took pictures of my Dads place and put it on record as his place being one of the first older homes being built there.

My Dad has become a part of the fabric of the towns beginning and growing.

He was well respected.

We have a few more years left before our second son goes off on his own and then I guess we will pack up the ship and head on

Back to the green green grass of home where we belong.

Back to my parents garden and big trees we planted. Back to the franklin stove we can here crackling in winter.

Back to the deer who visit us and the birds and other little critters like he fall ducks red and orange forests and winter ice fishing.

Back to the Appalachian mountains and the French language and the Richelieu River I swam and water ski id on.

Back to the Iroquois and Samuel de Champlain.

My Fathers house is rich in history and heritage. The life he was robbed of by war and politics he regained and made richer

By the life he led in anew country, as a young man,husband, father and grandfather.

He left a nice legacy and we should never forget it.

We try to instill values in our children to carry on and hope for it to live on when we are gone.