An old Pea Coat with a note:
When I served in the US Navy, part of the Navy-issued uniform was a pea coat. “Pea coat” is a term traceable to the old Dutch word for the rough or coarse material from which these usually nautical coats were made. Wikipedia defines a pea coat as “a navy-colored heavy wool coat originally worn by sailors of European and later US Navies.”
Possessing an excellent imagination I thought the idea of a pea coat was cool. Coming from the Dust Bowl country of the Oklahoma Panhandle, “nautical” and “European” were adjectives that appealed to my sense of adventure. After all, I had joined the Navy to “see the world.” Anyway, that’s what the recruiting posters said. Apart from all that, I thought I looked pretty darn cool wearing it.
I found my old Navy (not to be construed with the clothing label) pea coat the other day. Well, I didn’t actually find it, I had known where it was for a long time. It was hanging up in my storage shed. For some reason, It caught my eye one morning and I decided I should get it cleaned.
I think things were made of better quality back in the day. Having worn my pea coat in at least two foreign countries and in spite of it being stored with little or no care in multiple locations for several decades, my coat was in really great shape. It did however need a good cleaning.
Looking it over and dusting it before taking it to the dry-cleaners, I checked the pockets. In the inside breast pocket I found a copy of Our Daily Bread a small devotional booklet published by Radio Bible Class in Grand Rapids Michigan. It’s described as “An Aid To Personal And Family Devotions.” Each page has a “Scripture Reading for Today,” with appropriate insightful comments. It was from the Summer of 1978.
I’m a great underliner of things I think are important and tend to scribble notes in margins or other blank places as I read, and I sensed an opportunity to get to know the younger me. But as I leafed through the little book there wasn’t a mark in it anywhere. Maybe I hadn’t read it yet, or possibly I hadn’t yet become an underliner. I’d like to be able to tell you the pages were thumbed and looked well-read. But, that wouldn’t be true. Except for looking like it might have been slightly damp at one time or another, sadly the little devotional book appears to have been little used.
But it gets more interesting. Because folded inside the little booklet were two pages of lined paper. One page is a note clearly in my handwriting with my name on it and a date of May 1978. The other is blank as if the writer (me), might have had more to say. I’m left to wonder.
Unfolding the note, I proceeded with a certain amount of caution, not certain what a younger me might have said.
First, I saw my name. I didn’t need a handwriting expert to confirm the note was actually mine. Do I dare read this I thought…or do I just wad it up and throw it away? When I noticed the writing, my initial thought was, that even with all my concern for my horrible penmanship and practice with this pen, or that pen over the years, rollerball, fountain, ballpoint, and occasionally even with a pencil, my handwriting was better in May of 1975 than it is today!
The first two paragraphs began with the word “regret” which gave me cause for concern.
“Regret that I haven’t had more time to spend in devotional study time and with family devotions.”
“Regret that I wasn’t as prepared as I should have been for Bible studies, etc.”
Valid regrets and concerns I’m certain for that time, and even for today. Then happily, the note turned thankful.
“Thank the Lord for help with Business etc.” And, “Would like to have more time to spend as a family.”
I can certainly remember needing help with the small business we had started. We were, as the saying goes, “flying by the seat of our pants.” Looking back from this vantage point, I see much answered prayer. Our great God graciously provided in countless ways. And not only in 1975, but throughout our business’s lifetime from start to finish.
And time with the family? I don’t know what our girls would say, but I feel we did a pretty good job. We were jugglers, juggling things, (the things that could be juggled at least) to make family time. It was a blessing to have our own business so when possible we could do things without having to ask for time off. Also, the girls were able to be at our business, the shop we called it, anytime they wanted to or if it was necessary. I know they each have their own stories about being at the shop. I enjoyed involving them in various “jobs,” some probably not allowed today by OSHA rules. We found ways to make work time, family time.
One of the problems with having your own business, (we were entrepreneurs before being an entrepreneur was cool), is there was no wage, no guaranteed paycheck at the end of the week or the month. While it wasn’t written down anywhere and no one actually said it, it was understood that if you didn’t work, you didn’t eat, pay your bills, or do some of the things growing girls like to do. But we managed
And then another line said: “Would like to be better able to balance my work/leisure/Christian time.” Surely I must have been thinking of devotional or study time, as sitting here today I don’t know what I meant by “Christian time.” I surely meant devotional time. If that’s the case, I still need that.
The note continues; “I would like to send Joyce & kids to Scotland.”
I don’t believe at the time the note was written any of us had been back to Scotland. We did go later, many times. In spite of the cost and other problems associated with air travel at the time, we made a conscious effort to see our family in Scotland as much as possible. Time off work was critical for us as it meant no money coming in. Many times in the early days, Joyce and the girls would go, but there were times when I couldn’t because of the expense and the needed work. When I did go, I went later and met them there and we all came home together.
Lots of good memories of finding my way into London and then boarding a train at one of London’s great and storied train stations, Victoria, Kings Cross, etc. headed north to Scotland. There’s just something really cool about boarding a train in a British train station and heading north. The Tannoy’s (PA system) deep voice resonated through the cavernous departure area with information on various departing and arriving trains and platforms. It was like I had become a character in some exciting novel. But I digress…
When they would go without me, I distinctly remember taking them to the airport in Amarillo. Sadly watching as they boarded the plane, watching it taxi and then take off. I would be standing at the large window in the departure area waving my family I really could no longer see. When the departing plane eventually disappeared from view, I would head to Red Lobster my favorite place to eat at the time. When my table was ready they would call my name saying, “Don, party of one, Don party of one.” I would go to my assigned table and feel sorry for myself. The words “party of one” are burned into my mind. “Party of one,” what kind of party is that?
And now the final line in my old note, “Would like to be in excellent physical shape and be able to stay that way.”
And I would still like that.
I remember my NordicTrack in the unheated and crowded garage in the early mornings, even in winter. I’d get my cassette tape with my headphones, music on, and I’d be “down by the lake,” in no time. (That’s what I told the girls). My imagination allowed me that luxury.
Today, on the golf course behind our house, there’s a real lake, and I struggle even walk outside to go look at it. I’ve regressed a bit there. I certainly can’t use the word excellent to describe my physical shape. None of my several doctors do.😎
Thoughtfully studying the note I asked myself, “Have I made any progress?” My answer is, “I’m sure I have.” Progress is important.
Three lovely daughters, all married to great guys and leading productive lives in their various fields and living in various parts of the world. I have eight Grandkids whose lives I’ve had the opportunity to corrupt with foolishness such as pirate stories, scary stories, and other such nonsense. But all that fun comes to an end around the age of eight I think. Ellie, who is ten and living in Scotland as I write, might have summed it up for them all one day as she and I were having what I thought was a great and serious discussion. She said, and I quote: “Oh Grandpa, you’re just making stuff up again.
And I had thought all along that was what Grandpas were supposed to do. 😎
Oh, and in another pocket of my pea coat, I found an old knife. There was no way to tell when it was last used. I could see no signs of blood on it or any remaining evidence of me having used it to defend myself. It was almost as if it might have been cleaned after the last time it was used. Keep in mind It was found in the pocket of an old nautical coat of European design…and we all know there can be trouble at sea…pirates and all that.. But there I go again.
There really was a knife! But it was just a small pocket knife, I made up the part about the blood and defending myself.
But you never really know…
( I wish it still fit)