Strength and weakness...

...are tangled things. They look so much alike we confuse them like we confuse love and hate.

Mark Beazley, friend of Carol! Friend of mine.

Lighter Collection

I was cleaning out my closet and came across my dad’s old lighter collection. Mary took our each lighter and line them up around my bathroom sink. She asked a lot questions while going through then. Why would your dad need so many lighters? How does this one work? Where did he get these? Why do you keep these? 

I keep them because they were his. He got them from all over the world. Each one of the work a little differently, let me show you. My dad needed so many lighters because he really liked making fires! 

These seemed to represent the collection well. This one is standard stainless steel flip lighter, but the engraved block M and 1952 mark it special. He got this lighter his Senior year at Maryland, already married to my mom, winning a Sugar Bowl, and soon to graduate!

Cigarette lighters are a bit out of place in our world. My mom smoked back then. The way she tells it everybody smoked in the 50’s, “

Self Publishing

I've decided to start self-publishing. Started in earnest today to write my first children's book titled, "The Dogs the Tree and the Hill" a simple story of finding your place In the world. Featuring my photography of my dogs, the tree and the hill.

Soon to follow, Dumbdumbdaddyo the book. Then Capturing Beauty. I'm pretty psyched! Wish me luck!

Sincerely,

Big K

Did you know dad was in the FBI?

Yes, I did. He would of gone back, but they didn’t want him going to law school. So he worked at the Pentagon and was given rank of colonel in the Air Force. I asked mom how that worked and she said Colonel Byrd set him up as an attaché to the CIA, but that he never really said much about it. From what I can tell he was a spy working the iron curtain up until he got his job with the Lumberman’s Association. My only evidence tho are his passports you gave me from the late 50’s and early 60’s loaded with stamps from Eastern European countries. 

I think there’s a ton of stuff we’ll never know about him because that’s the way he wanted it. Especially his service in the Pacific Theater at the end and after the war. Did you know he was a Sergeant in the Marines days away from leading a company on a beach landing of mainland Japan when we dropped the bombs. When I said I thought you were just a clerk and typest. He said was and his eyes watered up.

He was pretty far gone when I started asking the hard questions. 

I asked him a lot about his dad and I think he had more PTSD from him than from his service or football. 

Thanks. I have found a lot of random papers form different branches of the military. I’m sure there is more to the story

Can you believe this letter is addressed to Hoover? 

It was a little surreal 

Mom’s call

I printed some pictures of the fam for my mom as she doesn’t do digital. As almost an afterthought I also printed this old Keith family photo I had posted about recently. Mailed them off to her and forgot about it. So my mom calls last night and that’s very special for a lot of reasons. First, it’s the first time in a long time she has actually called me. Second, it’s the first time she’s called me in a very long time when nothing was wrong. 

She just called to say thank you for the pictures! Especially the old black and white one. Where did I get it? What made me think to send it to her? How wonderful it was to see it. "Your father never looked more handsome than he does in that picture!" She just couldn’t stop looking at it. It has made her day. Thank you for sending it.

Made me take a closer look. He was rather handsome. So young. So thin. So much like I used to look before I got old and fat and bald and started looking like the old DDD I used to know.

Figure it’s about time I got serious about this trend of getting older and fatter. Not to worried about the balder thing, but I need to start getting thinner and younger and healthier before it’s too late. Thanks for the call Mom. And your welcome. 🙂❤️👍

Yep

Fear dad

Dear dad, fear’s the thing, I was afraid of loosing you. You were always so brave. Brave enough for all of us. Always. I know you had plenty to worry about and had your fears, but you had courage. Real courage. You always knew things were going to work out. That things were going to be ok. Even when it wasn’t. 

I’m afraid. Mostly afraid of being afraid. I’ve told the kids a couple of times that nothing scares me. I’m not ticklish and nothing scares me. That was you dad. More than anything I want to be brave for them. Like you were for us. 

Nothing takes more courage than facing the one thing in life that is sure. It will end. While you were dieing I wasn’t willing to face this truth. When Carol died I avoided this truth with passion. 

When you died I wasn’t there. I was home with Suzy and she was about to have Chloe. I was so scared. Terrified. I wish I were there. I guess it wasn’t meant to be. The time after you died and before Chloe was born is anathema to what I’m trying to say. It all worked out. I was ok. Even tho I wasn’t. But I had to be. 

If I could actually talk with you right now I would tell you how grateful I am to be your son. You were as imperfect as I am as a father, but the legacy you’ve left in me burns bright. Fatherhood. For better or worse I am trying as hard as you did to be a good dad. 

Hope. Hope born of love. That’s what you gave us. That’s what you gave me. Something to truly believe in. That life is worth living. That no matter how bad it gets things will eventually get better. No matter how rotten life gets it is always worth fighting for. You always helped me focus on what was possible. Hope for a better tomorrow will always make anything possible. I think of all you went through in your life. The incredible highs and the incredible lows and through it all you lived in the moment and looked forward to what was next. Life. 

I’ve come back to add a few words. I left some things out. When you died I was very sad, I grieved. I was so worried about Suzy being so pregnant and Kayla being so young and missing your funeral back in Maryland. I woke up Thursday morning and I was wreck. Literally a nervous wreck. I was still working. Selling groceries to restaurants for commission. I had to keep working so I could take a week off after Chloe was born. I woke up really early to go to men’s fraternity at my church. I know. I almost skipped it, but knew I need help. I needed something. I shared what I was going through with a bunch of older men at our table. Good men. Wise men. Holy men. At the end of the gathering they put their hands on me and our pasture lead the whole gathering in a prayer for me. It was powerful. Literally a miraculous experience. Allgram was his name. His words washed over me. He asked God to take away from me my troubles. He instructed me to trust in God to put me where He wanted me to be. As we prayed the words melted away and waves of comfort washed over me. Like water, Love, flowed around me. Through me. A baptism of Spirit. I was healed. Made well. You were there. I left that morning a different person. A man. I spent the day arranging my affairs. Freeing myself for what was about to happen. 

That night Chloe’s journey into this world would begin. Suzy was amazing. Kayla too. They were so brave. Kayla was so mad when our friends came to take her away. Suzy walked herself up to maternity while Kayla and I parked the car. We hurried but never did catch up to her. Suzy labored through the night and into the morning. Shortly after Suzy’s mother made it to us from St. Paul Chloe was born. I was so happy. I was in Love. I knew You were there too. You were so proud of us. The next day I would attend your funeral and share this happiness and Love with our family and friends. The following day I would return home to bring Suzy and Chloe home from the hospital. I was truly grateful. I am truly grateful. For Love. For life. Existence. Being. Life.

I think therefore I am. I love therefore I live.

Unafraid to be Happy

Love this family portrait. The Keith family 1967 in Cleveland, Ohio. We look happy. Unafraid. Proof positive that I, in fact, was the baby of the family. 

Today I was delivered a brand new file cabinet from my new employer and as I was transferring some files from my old one I ran into this picture along with some clippings from my dad’s old wood box of wisdom. One clipping in particular caught my attention. Dated 1947 this clipping was read and clipped by my father twenty years before this family portrait was taken. As it was in a file and not in the wood box I must have pulled it years ago to post, but never got to it. Better late than never.

From the catchy title to the Lincoln paraphrase this clip is very intriguing. But the premise, the premise is pure gold. You can choose to be happy. Or as Abe put it, you can make up your mind to be happy. You may also choose to be unafraid. Unafraid of life. Unafraid to be happy. These choices are made easy to swallow as they are for only one day, as we can do anything for a day. That one day being today. Now. 

Enjoy the beautiful! I find joy in seeing beauty everywhere. To enjoy the beautiful you must first recognize it. In people. In nature. In life. So much of it goes overlooked. I really enjoy capturing unexpected beauty with photography. I find joy in sharing it. 

The more I read this clip the more it intrigues me. The trying not to solve the problem of life all at once sentence for instance. What is the problem of life? Is there only one? If there is can it be solved over time then? I guess if I had to answer my first question I’d say finding the meaning of life. And that thought brings me directly to a DDDism, "Life is not meant to be understood it’s meant to be lived." My dad said this to me a couple of times. Usually when I was overthinking things.   Or overwhelmed by life’s many problems. 

Lastly, the title. How to Enjoy the Happiest Day of Your Life. Not how to have it, but how to enjoy it! Now there’s the trick, enjoyment. How to enjoy. A day. A life. A moment. Beauty. I once wrote a small piece, Joy. It will come if you let it. I wrote it at a low point in my life. I didn’t find joy that day. I let it find me. When I made up my mind to let it in I was literally overwhelmed by joy. Humbled by it. As I am now. 

I guess where I’m headed with this thought is anyone can enjoy their happiest day, but finding joy on a bad day is the trick to living a happy life. 

Iris

Karen once painted this plate like a peddle of an Iris flower. Not the whole flower, just one of the peddles. It was beautiful. I never really knew what it was until long after she was gone. I think J still has it. Now every spring when the Iris start to bloom in my garden box (which I inherited with the purchase of our house) I think of her. Her favorite color is purple, mine too.

It’s like God is setting off fireworks in my backyard every Spring in her honor.