Doughnut Pa

My alarm went off at the crack of dawn; translation—5:30 A.M.

I’ll never forget the morning I made the doughnut run with Pa. I had spent the night at Gammy & Pa’s house the night before with a friend and I asked him if I could tag along the next morning. I was in 7^th or 8^th grade then but I’ll never forget.

He let us leave a little later than usual since I was his special guest that morning. I woke up, threw my clothes on. He met me at the stairs and asked me if I still wanted to come. I sleepily accepted and we were out the door.

First stop: the doughnut shop. Pa had been going to the same Doughnut Shop on Smith Barry Rd for as long as I can remember. It was an old gas station converted into the shop Pa and I, both, grew fond of over the years. It had windows on 3 sides of the shop just like a self service gas station today does; and was unique in that way.

We got to the shop that Saturday morning and even though it had a drive through, Pa insisted on going inside. See, normally he’d walk to the doughnut shop from his house on Country Club Rd. about a mile from his house, return with the doughnuts and begin his delivery route. But that Saturday was different, I was his special guest and he would be sure I understood and accepted that.

Pa has a way of making one feel good. He told me over and over again that morning that no one had ever come with him on his doughnut run and how he loved spending that special time with me. Pa is the most selfless person I know. He was always the first one to greet you and tell you how your new hair cut falls to your shoulders beautifully or how that new coat he bought you really made you look tall (something us Thomas girls are not.) There was never a time when I was around him when he didn’t show his compassion and love for me. He was always lifting me up.

We walked into the doughnut shop and the man behind the counter met us with a huge grin. He and Pa also grew close over the years and he knew today was different. Pa approached the counter and the man pulled out about 8 boxes full of doughnuts and asked for special requests. See, because Pa had such a special relationship with all us grandkids, he knew what was going on in our lives most all the time. He’d be sure to send a bearclaw when Dad got home from a hunting trip, an extra box or two when we had slumber parties or an extra cherry filled doughnut when we made student council at school that week. He made his requests, wrote on the tops of the boxes and we left.

He always left special personalized notes on the top of the doughnut boxes; something from the week before, a simple compliment or words of encouragement. Something like, “Macy-I’m so proud of you.” I remember seeing that one a time or two.

Thinking back today, I couldn’t tell you where all we delivered doughnuts to. I remember several stops along the way but not the order or even being in route. But what I do remember is the conversation. The whole ride long, I sat listening to Pa tell me about his childhood mornings; soaking it all in. He woke up at 4 A.M. growing up because he had to work before school began to go to school. He said the early morning is his favorite part of the day and it originates from his childhood.

We got home from the delivery route and my friend was just waking up. We had just enough time to eat our own special doughnuts and head off to cheerleading practice.

My Pa is good as gold and his consistency in delivering doughnuts to us for 18 years is only a tiny testament of his selflessness and love. My how I love my sweet, sweet Pa.