Undiminished in effect...
More fascinated than ever with the spiritual pipeline which connects us to those who’ve departed, the expression, “put that in your pipe and smoke it,” comes to mind where my father is concerned.
My dad typically smoked unfiltered cigs. Raleighs were to his liking. Besides—each outer, crinkly, plastic-wrapped pack contained a tobacco-stained, parchment coupon my mom could redeem for merchandise.
From time to time, he’d smoke cigars. Eventually, he got around to putting tobacco in a pipe and smoking the aromatic blend. In addition to a pipe and tobacco, those with a pipe dream need:
Wooden matches
Tobacco pouch
A pipe tool for tamping the burning tobacco and loosening the left-over ash.
Bristle pipe cleaners and brandy for reaming a brandy-soaked cleaner down the stem.
My father stored all of this paraphernalia inside one of the top drawers of a chest-on-chest bureau. The other two on top contained various World War II memorabilia from Japan, where he was stationed. I also recall a duck-hunting whistle in there, which I liked to toot to get the full effect—indoors!
Over the years, 53 and counting, these artifacts got lost in the shuffle. When my mother bequeathed the bureau to me, all of the drawers had been emptied for me to fill.
Still embedded in the woodgrain, is the scent of pipe tobacco, undiminished in potency. I view this olfactory phenomena as a spiritual pipeline to my dad whose influence has never diminished.
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enjoyed the read, stirs memories of my dad. He did smoke a pipe now and again.
Never Stop Writing!
m
There was a time in the 1970s, when my colleagues in higher education were all starting to grow beards and smoke pipes. Always the outsider, I didn't follow the trend. Fads seem to affect even the highly educated. ;-) My twin brother even smoked a pipe. Perhaps to enhance his personal as a consultant. I don't know if he still does.
Ron