You know how it feels to have a great shower.  Not when you are rushing to get somewhere, but when you have the time to be “in the moment” in the shower.  You emerge feeling as clean as clean can be.

It was after one of those showers last week that I had a vivid picture of my dad sixty years ago, post squeaky-clean shower and shave.

We had only one bathroom in the house where I grew up.  So we were keenly aware of when it was occupied or when it was not.  Dad (who passed away forty years ago this month) would emerge from the bathroom, showered and shaved and emphatically announce, “I’m the cleanest person around.  Who wants to kiss me?” 

He’d have a towel wrapped around his middle, but more important, his head would be wrapped in a shaving towel à la Sheik of Araby.  His signature after-shave lotion, Old Spice, permeated the hall as he emerged. My mother usually complied with the requested kiss.

Dad was impeccable about his appearance, probably because he had no money growing up. As a successful businessman, he wore only the finest high-end suits and ties. No hair was ever out of place, not a speck of dirt under a finger nail.

Squeaky clean.