The Cedarville Review 2023

42 His Favorite Name by Ellie Adams They call him Chief. Chief, of the old fire helmets and smoke-bathed turnouts. Of the Red Delicious apple on the way home from work and the French dressing on his salad every day. Chief, of the child-sized firetruck and police car he kept under his cupboard for us to play with when we visited him at the station. Of the small, silver man who always balanced on his bike upon the Chief’s desk. Of the hope he shared with his every word and the courageous affection he drowned his grandkids in. Chief, of the over-packed retirement party, the 2012 September Saturday named after him, the address the guys still know by heart. Of the subtle joy he exuded through his sarcasm. They call him Dad. Dad, of the dog he loved who laid on the hood of the jeep each October at the Outer Banks. Of the strict expectations and determination he had for his boys. Two sons—just like the men who came before him. Dad, of the expression he gives the woman they call Mom, reminding her how much he loves her. Of the ‘91 Diesel with the step on the tailgate, paper towels strung between the headrests, fishing poles and cooler mounted to the front. Dad, of the way he taught them to fish and drive and fight. Dad, of the anger and gentleness he instilled in his sons. She calls him Don. Don, who looks at her like she still makes the world turn even 52 years after she put on the white dress. Of the smoke and hope that linger in the flannel vests he hangs on the old, white rocking chair. Of the way she watched him walk down the stairs that Sunday in September—the day my heart met my lungs when I panicked the end was near. Of the way he drags her to the beach each year to wait weeks for a bite. Of the way she willingly goes with him each year. Don, who scrubs the bathroom floors and peels the potatoes for her. Don, who taught me what love is. I call him Poppa. Poppa, of that night he held me on his lap at Hartville Kitchen as I played with his dog tags when I was 4. Poppa, of the strawberries he taught us to dip in sugar

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