Just like Dad

I’ve always been a pack rat, saving ticket stubs, boarding passes and other momentos that tell “my story” – even if they end up packed in storage tubs or tucked away in dresser drawers and jewlery boxes.  When Garth’s folks came to visit Seneca, they brought alone a large portfolio envelope that housed several works of art from Garth’s childhood.  (I’ll try to snap a few pics of my favorites from the collection!)

Then, a couple weeks later, we made our way northward to visit them in the U.P. and Mom excitedly said she had a shirt for Calder, and she pulled out this…

Daddy's Shirt

Perfectly frayed along the bottom and somewhat thin, my heirloom-loving heart soared at the sight.  Here’s the story as I understand it.  Sometime when Garth himself was a wee one, he was given the nickname of Garfo Q. Tucket (I believe by Grandpa) and it stuck enough that he was given his own special shirt.  Now, it’s not something that he’s called on a daily basis…but it does have a nice ring to it, don’t ya think?

Watching Calder toddle away in his daddy’s shirt gave me that little lump in my throat and made my eyes tingle.  It also challenged me to keep track of a few treasured items (blankie?) as the years fly by…

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