Stuff We Leave Behind

November 22, 2008

A few days ago.

I have to clean out the closet so the Mr. FL could turn off the hose bibs or whatever those things are called that can burst the pipes in winter.

Have to move shoes and boots and freezer totes and coats and jackets.


I come across an old leather jacket.  Sized for a tallish, slender man.  Dark brown. Cut in that 70s style, with a quilted lining.  Dark brown ribbing at the hem pilling from lots of wear.  I smell it.  A bit of moth ball aroma hits my nose, but underneath, the scent of aftershave.

Mr. FL sees me hugging it and asks, “What’s that?”

“My uncle’s jacket,”  I reply.  “Funny how people can be dead, gone for years, and their stuff is still around.”

I wonder what stuff of mine my family will keep around after I’m gone.


Life Goes On

April 24, 2008

It’s a beautiful day today.

The Sun is shining.

It’s not hot.

It’s not cold.

In my car, I passed people sitting outside at sidewalk cafes enjoying the day.  Birds were soaring through the sky and hopping on the grass.

But my grandfather lies in a casket.

Funny how life goes on.