Memento mori

My Dad’s heart is in his stamps.

He’s been collecting since he was five years old. I remember boxes in our attic stacked three and four feet high – all filled with various types and amounts of postage.

His main profession was teaching, but stamp dealing was his weekend gig, and seemed to bring him the most pleasure. He sold his miniature treasures in Moncton, Halifax and part of Maine, and people drove from miles around to claim them for their own collection.

Since his retirement from teaching just over 10 years ago, he’s been able to devote more time and energy to his business. His shows now take him to Halifax, Ottawa, Montreal and Toronto, so I get to see him every few months when he’s in town. My husband and I attend the show on Sundays, helping him behind the booth until closing.

I’m not a stamp fan myself. I’ve never really understood the beauty or value of them, but there’s something about watching my Dad in this role that I cherish. It tells me more about who he really is by seeing him at what he does best.  ...Continue

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