A Friendly Ghost story

A follow up to my last post - finding the right home for the right thing! One of the items I had not been able to let go of,  was a set of my Dad's calligraphy pens. In going through papers in a box, I recently found my dad's will from 22 years ago. He had also named me as his executrix should he and my mom pass away together. He stated in his will that he wanted his calligraphy things to go to a school. I had not found the right place for his things, so they have been at my house for the last 8 months and had been in storage since he died.

My dad had taught himself calligraphy after college.  He became good enough that folks paid him to do awards, announcements for weddings and church events, letters of commendation and all things fancy.  He enjoyed creating these works and even made an alphabet book with his art and some cartoon like characters.

Our notes for high school were always humorously written and more like works of art then what most kids had to get back into school.  One time; after being out ill,  I  used a regular note written by my mom to return to school;  the administrator told me " Well, this will get you back in, but have your Dad write one of his notes, Please". Three of us attended the same school, and the administration office saved all our notes. They told my sister they were almost sorry she was graduating as it meant no more notes!!!

This week I was at a meeting for the local  Friends of the Library where we were talking about what kind of items we wanted in our display case, someone mentioned calligraphy work and items. While I was thinking about my Dad's stuff; two of the ladies mentioned they were taking calligraphy classes and they would be talking to their instructor about a display!  HMMMM.... a school?

Later that week I took my Dad's pens to one of the calligraphy students, and gave them to her.  The pens were beautiful to look at with blown glass handles.   I don't even know if my Dad ever used them. My friend tells me that she liked them so well, she would be taking them to her instructor to share with the class.


We were standing in an open lobby looking at the pens when she suddenly asked me "you don't smoke do you?"  I said no, but my Dad had been a smoker for much of his life.   At first I apologized for not spraying the items with Fabreze or Lysol as the items had been in storage for the last 22 years; but then I realized....

.......it was just my Dad stopping by to let me know that I had found the right place for his things. It made it easy to let go of them.

I've felt my Dad checking in or rather checking up on me over the last few years - each time with a wisp of smoke in a place where smoke would not  normally be found. 

This time I knew it was to let me know that he approved. 

I had found the right place for his things.