Smile

Daddy was a big, good-natured, man who loved to laugh, but like many men, he didn't like to smile for pictures. (Why is that?) Once in awhile, though, he would forget he was supposed to look solemn and just be himself.


Roy E. Coffey 5 Aug 1926 - 26 Apr 2002

He was in his element, wearing his work coveralls and puttering around outside. He may have been fixin' stuff, or since he is standing by the camper, he may have been getting ready to go on a trip.

He is also sweating, because that is also something he could do with abandon. Once when my brother called, I had to call Dad in from outside to talk to him. "He's coming in now," I said. "Is sweat running off his nose?" my brother asked. Of course it was. Dad could work up a sweat just thinking about work. Or breakfast. Or fishing. Anything, really.

I was always a daddy's girl, and when he got sick, I fretted about how I would cope when he was no longer around. As it turned out, we went back to the house, and we got out boxes of photos so we could pick out the pictures for the video at the funeral. Roy in psychadelic Sixties garb. Roy dwarfing a playground ride. Roy and his first car. Roy and his first grandbaby, both sound asleep.

And we smiled.