Dad packed his lunch everyday for work....
One of my jobs as a youngin was to unpack it every evening. At the time it was an unpleasant task, but now long after he's gone it conjures up fond memories.
Opening that metal dome shaped pale and gathering up what was left....I can still remember the smell. It was a smell of cold meat, grease from the machinery he worked on, and old spice.
My Dad was a good man, not a perfect man, he was human with lots of faults just like me, but he taught me to trust Jesus. To always lean on Jesus. He also was the first to show me unconditional love. No matter what I did or said, he was always there. I remember a few spankings but not to many. Mostly, I remember him sitting a the kitchen table Bible open, hands clasped in prayer............he always believed we would come to Jesus.
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