My stepson rarely misses a day of work. Part of that is his desire for structure, a trait that defines many autistic people like him. Part of that is his desire to connect with my side of the family. I realized that earlier this year when he asked if he could help my brother and I at our craft show in Mound City, Kansas, instead of going to his regular job.
Dan and I inherited our father’s leather crafting business after he died in August 2019. We planned on continuing his legacy, partly because we like a little extra money, but mostly because it was and is a way to honor the old man.
My father and Rory, my stepson, had a strong bond. One of the things Rory values most is being treated like he’s normal. Many people simply don’t do that because he’s a little different. He’s a smart kid and recognizes this immediately. From day one, my father acted as if he was like any of his other grandchildren.
That’s a rather long-winded way of saying Rory really liked my father and enjoyed spending time with him, which typically included the needling my father imparted on just about anybody he liked. One of the most moving things I’ve seen since Dad died is Rory leaning over, touching my father’s headstone and saying “happy birthday” after I did it when we visited the old man on Nov. 2 this year.
That was the moment I really got it: Rory asked to help us at the craft show because it was not only a way for him to stay connected with my brother’s family, who he enjoys a great deal, but also a way for him to stay connected with my dad.
As for the shows this year, we did two, which was our plan all along. The goal was to travel to Mound City and Hannibal, Missouri, for their festivals in October for as long as we could/can. That didn’t happen in 2020, when everything was canceled, but both cities hosted them in October this year.
On the Friday before the Sugar Mound Arts & Craft Festival in Mound City, my brother and I, along with Rory and my youngest nephew, set up our booth. My stepson and nephew were a huge help, easing the stress on my brother and I’s achy backs considerably.
Our booth was busy all of Saturday and most of Sunday. As much as we like a successful show, we love talking about our father. We got to do that throughout the event, as dozens of people either asked about Dad or expressed their condolences. Most of them just wanted to tell a story about him.
Rory was an even bigger help on Sunday, as he climbed into the back of our truck and moved heavy box after heavy box while hunched over, a job much more suited for his 26-year-old back than Dan and I’s 40-plus-year-old backs.
The Hannibal Folklife Festival the next weekend went just as well, though my brother and I handled that show by ourselves. Like the previous week, we talked to dozens of people who wanted to tell us about the old man. Countless customers thanked us for continuing the business because they bought from him every year.
Perhaps my favorite story was from a younger guy in his late 20s or early 30s. He told us he was walking by the booth several years ago when Dad said, “Hey, young man, come here. It looks like you need a new belt.” My father and the young man, then in his early 20s, spoke for 20 minutes before Dad talked him into buying a belt. He came back a year later for a wallet. The next year, he bought another belt. We hear that several times a show.
As he told this story, the customer bought another belt and another wallet. As he was leaving, he shook our hands and said, “I loved your dad. He was a good man. Thank you all for continuing his legacy.”
Like I said, a little extra money is great. But honoring the old man is priceless.
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS 2021 SERIES
PART VII: Dad, prison escapees and a scary week in Southwest Missouri
PART VI: An excerpt from the book I’m writing about Brenda Keller
PART V: Dad, my best friend and jars of baby sh$t
PART IV: Dad, “Big Swede” and hitting a guy in the head with a ladle
PART III: Dad, pinball and arcades