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Thursday, November 12, 2015

The pants that never traveled

  I have been wearing Dads pants for days now. That's a lie, weeks. I wash them and put on my jeans to go to work but I switch right back to these pants when I get home. I have a sweatshirt from the 70's of his that I pilfered when I was 11 and that doesn't get the wear that these pants do. His never worn-size large-heather grey sweatpants. I found them in his laundry pile freshly washed the day I came for his address book. I don't know why but I had to take them with me and sleep in them all the time forever. They are just big enough to be crazy comfortable and comically enough so that they will remain house pants only. They don't make me miss him any harder and they don't heal anything by being worn. But it's a strange comfort knowing they were his. My youngest brother is clinging to every paper and every shoelace found with a sentimentally orphaned mentality. I thought I would be the same if not worse. It's strange how different people in the exact same moment handle these things.

  I haven't been drawn to write since my last very unhinged entry. The summer came and went with a madness and chaos that filled all of time and sapped all my energy. Too tired to be stressed. Too stressed to sleep. Busy is good for me though. No space to let my mind adventure into all the mystery of other peoples behaviors. I have had to come to terms with things I cannot change once again. This is my hardest life lesson and I am never graduated from it. I cannot make people be different. I can only accept how it makes me feel and move on.

 I miss my father every single day. Multiple times a day. I have called his phone to hear his voice on his machine and cried because of the finality in unplugging that phone to pack it in a box. I can never ever get rid of the voice mails remaining on my phone. I can never lose these pants. I play his music to myself on my drives in to work. I catch myself reliving the stories of all his insane antics. I read his journals and every song that was penned but never strummed breaks my heart.


  I don't know why today was my reentry to blogging it out but it is. It's nice to be back. Things will get better. Very different and hopefully better.

11 comments:

  1. Beautiful words. :) Thank you for sharing so much of your heart...

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