The Penny

I know, I know. All the stories lately about removing it from circulation lately. These stories pop up every few years.

I don't want them to. Not because, if they did, the price of EVERYTHING would go up, which it would (uhm HELLO?? do any of you live in a state where the sales tax is either 5% or 10%? I'd say no. And if your current sales tax rate is 6.5%, as it is for me, do you think they will LOWER that tax to 5%? I think not.)

But because of my father.

Sometime after he found out about his illness and before he died, he typed some messages to his children. He then took those little print-outs and placed them into a small little envelope with a penny. He also wrote our first initials on the envelope, so my step-mother would know who to give them to.

He didn't write our full names out on each envelope because he was suffering from a type of Parkinson's disease, caused by Agent Orange (used in Viet Nam), which made it nearly impossible for him to write ANYTHING out. In his later days, he switched to his left hand to sign his name or write anything, though he'd been a right-handed person for his entire life. But, if he wanted anyone, including himself, to be able to read what he was writing, he had to painstakingly write it with his left hand. It was no wonder that the computer became his best friend. Typing with two fingers is a lot faster than trying to write with hands that shake so bad you can't control them.

Back on topic, here is a picture of my envelope:


Here is a picture of the envelope and it's contents:


It is a 2000 penny, the year he did it, as he died in March 2001.

The note says:

"I am like a penny. Not a bad one, but a bright one.
Remember, I'll always turn up wherever you find a penny
anywhere. In the years to come, you'll pick one up and
say, "There's Dad!" In time you'll have a thousand
reminders of how much you are loved."

It's true. Although I do not pick up each penny I see lying on the ground, I do think of him each and every time.