Happy Birthday Papa

Today, Papa would have been 98. Mom asked for a story about him. The memory that is always with me is of him leaning against the bar at the lake in his undershirt and slacks drinking coffee and telling stories. This would be early in the morning and I would be in a t-shirt and under-roos eating cereal on one of those round wooden stools.

Then there is always Papa hosing down the sidewalks. The choral concerts with the dachshunds float across my memory. Of course there is the splitter painted green and my drawing desk he made for me for Christmas.