Life's Tiny Puzzle Pieces

Over the last eighteen months, I came to truly know a man I could only dream of having in my life—my Dad. Finally, he wasn't just the Dad I wanted, but the Dad I needed. He had come and gone too many times. Now, it didn't matter why he had returned to our lives. It just mattered that he did. Through our countless hours of conversation, I finally understood why he was the man he was, which made coming to terms with our sometimes volatile relationship much easier. Yesterday, my Mom said, "Take time to process and feel what you need to feel." I told her, "I need a month or two alone in a tiny, secluded beach town where I can just listen to music and write." I've been through enough death and grief to understand the process is anything but linear. This past week, going through my Dad's things has been a rollercoaster of emotions. He saved everything. At first, it was almost annoying, but I couldn't find it in me to be annoyed—only sad. 

I know that his things are just that—things. Still, my wish was to find some small final pieces of him. I began making two piles: keep and discard. I saved his entire album collection, a container of hundreds of concert stubs dating back to 1970. His concert T-shirts and hats filled a Rubbermaid container and then some. Of course, I saved his leather motorcycle jacket, cellophane-wrapped toothpicks still in the breast pocket. The moment I put it on, I felt like my Dad's arms were wrapped around me. While the coat is big on me, it looks like it was made for Jackson.

I found a few sentimental, priceless gems. Hidden beneath numerous loose photos was the guest book from my parent's wedding. The pages are lined with the signatures of many of our family members who are no longer with us. In an old photo album, tucked beneath pictures of me and my Mom, were newspaper clippings from moments when my Dad wasn't in my life, yet he still was—just from a distance. Buried in the bottom of an old wooden cigar box, I discovered a small sealed bag with rings—my parent's wedding rings. It was like finding a missing piece of a puzzle. My search was over. I found that bittersweet piece of my history that I will treasure until my last breath. 

"I guess it's not what you take when you leave this world behind you. It's what you leave behind you when you go." #MyDad