Too Many Days.

Many many years ago I gave my dad a scarf for Christmas. It was intertwined with cream and black yarn and was a bit “fancy” to wear with his business attire. He was incredibly difficult to shop for. He never wanted anything and would give you no answers when you asked for gift ideas…other than the occasional something or other he had spotted on the Food Network. So, I bought him a scarf and much to my surprise he loved it and wore it incessantly throughout the winter months. A week after he left, I was putting things away in the front closet and sitting neatly folded on the top shelf was his scarf. His silver hair was still nestled in between the stark contrast of cream and black, his scent resonating, still, after months of being put away. I remember sitting down right there in the front entry with the afternoon sun beating down on me for what seemed like forever with tears that seemed endless...

I have clung to this silly scarf like a lifeline. I have tucked it away in a special box for safekeeping. I have buried my face in it many times and breathed him in with visions of our previous life flashing before my eyes. The other day I gently brought it out and heartbreakingly so, his scent was gone...leaving me with yet another reminder of how we are all still climbing and falling and, at times, suspended in the foreign space that is between.

I don't know how time has continued to march on. All I know is too many days have passed without him and far too many remain...


*Milwaukee, 2007*