The events of the last few days have brought me back to a time long ago. Back to the early 70s and the lives of a group of young plumbers in their early 20s. We all worked for a plumbing company in Scituate. The Bailey Company. There was Fran, Phil V. Tommy, Jay, Jackie, Wrenchie, and three young apprentices from Quincy, Eddie, Eddie, and Mike. Pay day was on Thursday, and on one such summer afternoon, we grabbed our paychecks, went around the corner to Cohasset Savings, then ventured across the street to Jamies Pub. We were having one great time, and a few hours later someone came up with the idea to move the party to the Satuit Bar & Grill in Scituate harbor. As I remember, this was the bar tenders idea:-) So we got into our methods of travel and started our journey to Scituate harbor. About a mile down Hatherly road, I noticed that the side door of the van in front me slid open and, one by one, the Quincy three diving out of the van. As you might think, I found this quite odd. The van came to a stop as did I behind it. By this time the Quincy three were all back on their feet, scraped, cut, and bruised, but nothing broken. I asked, What happened? Did something catch on fire in the van? NO!, said one of the Eds. We thought it would be fun to play paratrooper. You cant make this stuff up. It is amazing what the human mind will bring up as fun when you have enough Budweiser in your veins. Luckily, there were no more injuries that evening, although only about 8 of the 20 employees showed up for work the next day. The owner of the company wisely changed pay day till Friday. Years went by, and one by one we went different ways. It was years later when I ran into Mike when he worked for Alvin Hollis. I stopped by one of his jobs. My eyes really caught hold of his workmanship. It looked like my own father had taught him his craft. It was perfect. You could tell, no doubt, that Mike took a great pride in what he did. When Mike moved on to being an inspector in Weymouth, he brought that same pride to his new job. He worked and took that same pride in being the best at what he was doing. I remember a plumber saying, Some of us read Playboy, Mike reads the code. It was a pleasure working with him for the short time I did. This week also brought me back to another time that I have shared. The day I lost my own father. In an instant, my world had changed. My life, permanently altered. A large pice of my lifes puzzle was now missing and I tripped over that empty space over, and over, and over again. I felt empty, lost, and alone. Then one Friday at the end of the day, I was rushing to finish up a job. Should have known better, but I rushed myself non the less. I was installing some cast iron fittings which you do with lead, a caulking iron and a hammer. With one swing of the hammer, I missed the caulking iron and made a direct hit on my thumb. A broken nail, a lot of blood, and a now dark purple thumb that doubled in size. Before I was able to yell out my chosen profanity, I heard something. My dad. He was laughing at me. Whats wrong with you? How many times have I told you what happens if you rush. Then I heard him chuckle again. It was then that I realized, that my dad had never left me. He was never that far away. I just hadnt opened my eyes enough to see him past my own grief. Since then, he has always been with me. Most all my choices are the ones he would have made. He has helped me through trying times, helped me be a father, and helped me be a Poppi to my grand children. For those of us who are so saddened by this loss, the day will come when the thought of our Mike will not bring tears, but smiles and laughter again. He stands in the shadows amongst us and watches over us. The darkness will subside and he wish show his shiny face again. For now, we will hold on to our faith. God bless you Mike. And may God shine on us all.
Posted on: Sat, 29 Mar 2014 13:45:43 +0000
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