The label turned up in the center console of my Equinox.
Actually, there were two of them.
I know where one of them came from. The other, I’m not sure about.
It’s a strip of paper with advesive on the back. It is less than half inch wide and maybe an inch or so long.
It has my name on it. It was a label, with JASON on it. Daddy had made it for me and fixed it to the back of my cell phone. Mine was red and his was black, so I am not sure why we needed to label them, but he did.
The adhesive had finally worn off and had sloughed off in the console when I set my phone there the other day.
It was then I noticed the other one. It was one with Daddy’s name on it. I am not sure how it got there. We retired his phone as Mama has her own. Daddy has been gone now for going on two years, having graduated to glory August 7, 2023.
I still look for him everyday. He was always in my world. I remembered something just a little while ago that I needed to ask him about and Lord knows I have several things I need advice on right now.
I’m not sure how the label got there.
Sometimes, I think the Lord gives us these little reminders just to let us know that Daddy’s alright now.
Daddy ordered the Brother Label Maker from Staples or from Amazon. He always loved gadgets and he loved computers, impressive to me because he was self taught.
I’m not sure just what led to the urgent need for the label maker.
Maybe it was a way to help with organization. Daddy was never a stickler for that, however. He always knew right where everything was, at least in theory.
Granted it would sometimes take him all day to find the tool or part he was looking for, but he knew he had it and he knew about where it was.
I think the numerous sets of keys around the house may have been the reason for the first labeling project.
The key chain hook was soon decorated with a label. Then, the actual keys and fobs got a label: tractor, mower, Malibu, Silverado.
Or, maybe it was the diesel and gasoline cans. I put diesel in the lawnmower once because he changed cans on me. Supposedly, he had told me that he had started putting gas in the new, red can instead of the old, red can. He started putting diesel in the old red can. Both cans were red to me.
The Breyer’s ice cream boxes out at the shop all got labels: nuts, bolts, screws, nails, misc. Misc. was always the fullest box. Then, the toolbox got labels. Hammers, wrenches and screw drivers all got labels affixed to them. I was disappointed when they didn’t include precise descriptions like Phillips head, flat, 9/16ths, ball pin, etc. I suspect it was because the labels became too long and and wouldn’t fit on the tools.
Labeling soon spilled over to Mama’s domain in the kitchen. Flour, sugar, and grits canisters all got labels, I suppose because they all look similar in the cannisters.
The labeling soon got out of hand, however. I came home one evening and as I reached to open the door, a label caught my attention. Underneath the door bell button was a label: door bell.
At least it was plainly identified. That’s what labels are for, right?
The label maker was still in his office above his computer console, on his desk. It was exactly where he left it. I’ve been tempted to see if I can load the paper and type me up a label. Not sure I will actually label anything with it.
I think I will simply type these words: I miss you Daddy.
