APRIL WRITING PROMPT
My Dad Fell; It Was Beautiful to See Him Laugh
I was mortified, but we shared the same sense of humor

Many thanks to Keeley Schroder for her April Challenges. You can find the complete list here.
I started collecting baseball cards in the late 1980s while stationed at Fort Lewis in Washington State.
That year, the “big” card was Ken Griffey Jr’s rookie card from Upper Deck’s high number set. I think it was selling for around $125. I spent a helluva lot more than that over the years.
My dad and I never got along when we lived under the same roof. When I graduated from high school, he offered me this sage advice: Get a job or get out of the house. I did both by enlisting in the Marines.
Eight years later, I was back on civvy street, and it didn’t sit well with me. I considered the Marines but opted for what I thought was a better choice, the Army.
A few months later, I was stationed at Fort Lewis. During that time, my folks decided to visit, which really blew me away.
In the short week my parents were with us, my old man became fascinated by baseball cards. Maybe he collected as a child. I never got around to asking that. I wish I had.
Every time I called home, he and I discussed baseball cards. For reasons I don’t know, it helped our relationship blossom.
I left Fort Lewis in 1992 to finish my career in the reserves.
A few years later, I was on the move again. Before leaving Washington State, I bought Pop a present — a 1954 Ted Williams baseball card.

He was stunned.
Pop finally mumbled, “I can’t take this.”
He knew the card wasn’t cheap.
I smiled and said, “I’ll get it back sooner or later.”
We had the same morbid sense of humor. We both laughed.
That comment also proved prophetic. Two years later, Pop had a seizure due to a brain tumor. He was given 18 months to live, but he only got 13 months. I felt cheated.
Near the end, I asked what he did with the Williams card. We went upstairs into my folks’ bedroom. He had stashed the card in their cedar chest. As he walked past the bed, his robe caught on the bedpost, and Pop tumbled to the floor. I was fucking mortified. He was laughing his ass off. Only then did I smile and laugh with him, except I had tears in my eyes.
That humor — his humor — now mine, got me through some difficult times. It still does.
If you’ve read this far, thank you for stopping by.
Adrienne Beaumont, Keeley Schroder, Ruby Noir, Pamela Oglesby, NancyO, Ray Day, Brandon Ellrich, The Sturg, Karen Schwartz, Karen Hoffman, Susie Winfield, Marlana, MSW, Randy Pulley, Harry Hogg, Paula Shablo, Pluto Wolnosci, Michael Rhodes, Dixie Dodd, Julia A. Keirns, Misty Rae
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