Daddy's Cups

When Poppy was still with us, he loved to paint. He could take anything and make it a memory. No, he wasn't my Poppy, but that's what I called him. He was my best friend's dad and I loved him as my own. My home was a broken one, but when I was in the mist of this family, I learned family values. It was just a joy to be in their presence.

Each morning, Poppy would take coffee to his bride and to Judy. And when I was over for the night, I got a cup also. Each family member had their special cup and coffee tasted better when served up with such a big lump of love....lump of sugar not required!

Poppy put each cup on a table one day and painted. Looking back, I wonder if he shed a tear or two over his early morning memories of seeing the loves of his life with sleep still in their eyes reaching out to him with a hug or a kiss or a "thank you daddy." Judy and I were teenagers then. But the many years have never faded my joy of being surrounded by her family.

When I was in Natchitoches last, I took a picture of "Daddy's Cups" and this morning felt the need to enjoy their presence in my Photoshop workspace.

But in spite of my fun manipulations of Poppy's painting, I still love the original best of all.


  1. Such a sweet story...happy for you having this second family to fill the gaps from your bio family situation. Smart of you to know to hang out there. Wonderful memories and wonderful pictures, all of them.

  2. Thanks Lynn....friends and family...aren't they the best!

  3. Thanks for sharing, Marty. He sounds like a great guy to have had in your life. And what a great image and memory to treasure.


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