I was cleaning out my basement a couple of weeks ago. I was making room for a new Kijiji find and to locate stuff I no longer use so I can donate to my sister in law's garage sale to raise money for my nephews education.
I came across an old suitcase. One I will never use again. I have more modern stuff, with handles and wheels to make dragging it behind me so much easier. Not this old thing... I'll donate it to the cause. But first I'll remove my address tag. No one needs my home address. But alas, it wasn't my address tag after all, it was his. Printed in that familiar font of his. I wish it had said Kit Rousseau, but I'll take this. I ripped it off. I'm gonna keep it. I can actually visualize him filling this out, the way his left hand transferred the information from the tip of the pen to the address label. I always loved his penmanship. Always.
I find comfort in the familiarity of this and I relish in the unexpected findings.
Hi dad! I love you.