it’s been raining pennies from heaven lately. i will get another today, i’m sure of it. today is pop’s 110th birthday. if you know me – or, you’ve been following this blog for a while, you know i talk to pop all the time. some may think it’s a bit weird since pop passed away (from earth) in 1996, but he talks to me everyday. i didn’t even talk to him every day when he was living. yes, i talk to dead people.
i’m not concerned if people believe me and yes, i know that many don’t – & that’s cool – but recently i was telling my friend jeff about pop and how he sends me old ‘wheat pennies’ whenever i ask. i call them “one-cent-pennies”. like most, he was a bit suspicious about whether i was being entirely truthful, i could tell by his expression. for some reason i really wanted him to understand that i do talk to pop – and pop always answers. we were sitting in a dunkin donuts up on madison at 97th street when i decided to prove this to jeff. i told jeff i would ask pop to send him some pennies. i generally only ask for one, but given that jeff looked to me like he suspected i may be on crack, i thought pop should send more than one ‘one-cent-penny’. jeff told me he hadn’t found a ‘one-cent-penny’ in about 10 years.
later in the day jeff called to let me know he had found two ‘one-cent-pennies’ in his closet. he was convinced i had planted them. i reminded him that i had not been to his place since we had the conversation earlier in the day. jeff also found one under his bed. several days later he put on a pair of pants he had not worn since last summer and called to tell me that pop was in his pocket! i think he got the message.
so today pop would have been 110. i keep several pictures of pop around the apartment and wished them all a happy birthday. i thanked him for the good work with my friend jeff and then asked him for a one-cent-penny today – just for kicks!
this is how i most remember pop:
and here he is celebrating his 90th birthday:
thanks for the memories and thanks for the pennies, pop! i love you.
“The past is never dead, it is not even past.”
~William Faulkner