Fathering and furthering the kids
The butcher was considered a “break-down artist,” proudly able to take a side of beef, cut it, chop it and grind it. His body adjusted to extremes of heat and cold, stepping from the store into the freezer to the meat room and then outside, whatever the season.
He worked from a butcher-block table with sawdust on the floor.
At day’s end, his boots were covered with clumps of sawdust, mixed with scraps that would fall from the butcher-block.
I remember him coming down the back yard, carrying bags of groceries; he also helped Mom with the shopping list.
I thought he was also the father to every dog in the neighborhood. They lapped at his shoes, sawdust and all.
Like so many dads today, he championed all responsibilities for his children.