8:41pm
December 9, 2014
This is the first time I’ve felt truly uncomfortable getting out my dad’s things. I know he chose these as holiday presents long before he died because he knew he wouldn’t live to the holidays. But I’m still uncomfortable. And awed.
He made most of the backpacks we used. And to keep himself sane after a year of living and working in the city, he went off backpacking once a year. There were family trips too but his own trips were different, sacred in some way. And even though people have been telling me I need a backpack, and even though I know he gave it to me, I still feel like I’m trespassing on sacred territory. Today was the first day I could even pick it up and try it on.
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