The Reindeer Keeper

  Sometimes when I think about my father, a simple thought comes to mind—his morning ritual when preparing his two pieces of toast. After buttering each piece, he’d smother them with Smucker’s Strawberry Jam. Then, he’d slice each piece diagonally. With the knife lying across the top of his plate, he’d then thoroughly enjoy every bite of his two pieces of toast with a hot cup of coffee. My father was a funeral director. If he had a funeral on any particular morning, he’d do the same routine. The only difference was he’d be sitting there in his dress pants with suspenders, his white dress shirt and tie. I don’t remember him ever spilling strawberry jam on his crisp white shirt. I do remember his hair meticulously in place and the faint scent of Old Spice in the air. One morning when going into the kitchen, I discovered he’d already been sitting there enjoying his toast and coffee. It's a morning I’ll never forget. It was the day after Christmas. I woke up on edge. I was being induc...

Sometimes having a father as a funeral director led to some unforgettable memories! Most people knew my father as a funeral director-a caring man who took great pride servicing families in their time of sorrow. I love this picture of my father because it's about the only picture I have where he is not wearing a tie. He's k idding around, enjoying some down time-showing his sense of humor. Growing up around a funeral home offered a unique awareness of the frailty of life-and some unforgettable moments-some quite hilarious-like the time I went off to college in the hearse and never thought a thing about it. When it was time to go to that community college, my father just happened to be going that way to pick up a remains to bring back home. So we loaded up the back of the hearse with all of my stuff and off we went. The school didn't have dorms on campus so I was renting an apartment with four other girls I'd never met.(This was way before facebook)! Adding to ...