A-Z CHALLENGE (hosted by a variety of writers) : April's task is to write something, anything using the letters of the alphabet as an inspiration for each post. In honor of one of my favorite authors, I will use Sue Grafton's title set-up: V is for... W is for... X is for... (and so on.).
After my dad passed away, years ago, my mom handed me the wool sweater he wore daily. For him, it was a source of warmth and comfort. "Do you think Rudy would like this?" she asked me. I was certain that Rudy would indeed like the sweater. What she may not have realized is that I loved it. Wanted it for myself.
When I returned home later that day, I mentioned to Rudy that my mom thought he might like the sweater. He reached for it just as I stretched out my arm toward him, willing it over. He slipped one arm in, then the other, knowing immediately it was too snug for his comfort. "Ah, too bad," I said; yet, I was happy. That meant the Irish cardigan would belong solely to me.
I have always loved the fact that the sweater was not something that had been stashed away in a drawer back at my dad's house, an old treasure or something; but rather a valuable piece of clothing that would be a part of my life, throughout my days. A reminder of my dad, a person I adored.
About a week later, I walked into my mom's house wearing the sweater. "Well, it didn't fit Rudy. So, I am going to keep it," I said, big smile on my face. "Oh, I like it on you!" she stated. Then, she handed me a watch. The watch that had been given to my dad, as a retirement gift, from his position as a college professor. "Since you collect watches, I figured you'd like to add this to your collection." She placed it in my open hand. An Omega. A watch that works with the rhythm of my pulse, keeping not only track of time, but the month and the date as well. I flipped it over. My dad's name was inscribed on the back. "Thank you, Mom. I love it. Just like I love Dad's sweater." I hugged her small frame gently.
To this day, I wear both items. The watch regularly. The sweater a cold winter days. Both gently soothe the emotions of my heart.
After my dad passed away, years ago, my mom handed me the wool sweater he wore daily. For him, it was a source of warmth and comfort. "Do you think Rudy would like this?" she asked me. I was certain that Rudy would indeed like the sweater. What she may not have realized is that I loved it. Wanted it for myself.
When I returned home later that day, I mentioned to Rudy that my mom thought he might like the sweater. He reached for it just as I stretched out my arm toward him, willing it over. He slipped one arm in, then the other, knowing immediately it was too snug for his comfort. "Ah, too bad," I said; yet, I was happy. That meant the Irish cardigan would belong solely to me.
I have always loved the fact that the sweater was not something that had been stashed away in a drawer back at my dad's house, an old treasure or something; but rather a valuable piece of clothing that would be a part of my life, throughout my days. A reminder of my dad, a person I adored.
About a week later, I walked into my mom's house wearing the sweater. "Well, it didn't fit Rudy. So, I am going to keep it," I said, big smile on my face. "Oh, I like it on you!" she stated. Then, she handed me a watch. The watch that had been given to my dad, as a retirement gift, from his position as a college professor. "Since you collect watches, I figured you'd like to add this to your collection." She placed it in my open hand. An Omega. A watch that works with the rhythm of my pulse, keeping not only track of time, but the month and the date as well. I flipped it over. My dad's name was inscribed on the back. "Thank you, Mom. I love it. Just like I love Dad's sweater." I hugged her small frame gently.
To this day, I wear both items. The watch regularly. The sweater a cold winter days. Both gently soothe the emotions of my heart.
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