I have a strange cartoon. It’s tiny and rests in a frame, barely 2×3, on a shelf in my office. It’s something my father gave me. It’s a man in a trench coat, holding a small fan and standing outside a crematorium. He has a sign the says “Ashes Scattered.” It’s a weird little thing and perhaps morbid, but it sizes up my father’s humor perfectly.
My father and I didn’t get along. We had more bad days than good. But we had our moments, where all the bad history melted away and we sat together as father and son. Humor was one of our healing areas. He’s been gone for seventeen years and I like to glance at this cartoon because it makes feel close to him. I won’t admit I have the same sense of humor, but I do get a chuckle out of it, and it warms my heart that he took the time to frame for me.
RobArt Penguin 
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