It’s natural to think about those we’ve lost at this time of year. Yesterday, the great Penny Marshall joined the long list of people who left us in 2018. We think of our dear friend Kerry. Mike Cooper’s wonderful wife Debbie. Our warm and lovable colleague, Jodi. And my Dad’s been in my thoughts more than usual, now a year-and-a-half after he died.
As we continue to settle in our Wallaceburg home, Derek has taken a pick-up load of stuff to Goodwill and a couple more to the recycling depot. We are still purging. The new rule is, if we’re not going to use it, it must go. No more hanging onto stuff “just in case”.
And that brings me to a box of my Dad’s stuff. The bingo suspenders were an easy call. The thought of another older man wearing them proudly is enough to put a smile on my face. But what about his custom horse-racing suit? And his company jacket? Who would want them? The thought of them ending up in a landfill bothers me, even though keeping them goes against the house rule.
Someone suggested putting them in a shadow box. Dad would hate that, and I don’t want to turn them into a display. I know Dad would tell me to get rid of them but it’s not as easy as that, not these things. He loved horses and he put his life into the business.
Ultimately, I believe I’m putting off the inevitable. But if you have an idea that you think I might not have considered, I’m eager to hear it. It seems to me that there’s no use for these garments for anyone but my Dad, and Dad’s no longer here.