I grew up in a small city-town if that makes sense. I mean-the city was close by but the small town seemed to eclipse it in a way. It’s been 8 years since I’ve lived there but what I remember most about it is the people. Never before have I met such sincere people, such passionate sports finatics and such an interesting group of folks able to tolerate the crappiest weather and still keep a smile on their faces.
During our recent visit-7 days-it rained 6…all day long. It was dreary, dismal and humid. The clouds hovered over constantly and the raindrops lulled me to sleep at night.
My dad took our sons (his grandsons) to his favorite local bakery. (You don’t find many of these around any more and certainly not here in Colorado.) The same two ladies worked behind the counter from 8 years ago and past visits with my dad to get our pastry fix. They smile, make jokes, and offer our boys fresh baked cookies. It smelled lovely in there and the smiles from those clerks really brightened up the dismal morning. I snapped a few photos to remember and relive the moment. I should have made the photos all black and white…as they remind me of days long ago and times long ago when papas took their grandsons to the bakery. I wanted to capture my dad in his everyday life, his environment, his world and his town. He’s loyal to it and enjoys the small town life he lives in and around the big city.
I love you dad-for all that you are passionate about and…for the doughnuts, cookies and fresh baked pastries every time we come back for a visit.