1:39am
January 4, 2015
My father died of cancer (so thoroughly metastasized they never found the exact source) recently. I started wearing similar clothing to him a couple months before he died, because I felt like it made me feel closer to him even though I wouldn’t be able to travel to see him or even his burial (he didn’t want a funeral, just a quiet burial with my mother reading a short eulogy and a couple of my poems). Anyway, he loved that I was dressing like him and started sending me his own clothes to wear. After he died, I got his entire collection of hats – hats meant a lot to my father so I was amazed and flattered that he’d send them to me.
So a dad shirt is a shirt that looks like the kind my dad habitually wore, or a shirt that actually belonged to my dad. And same with the dad hats.
Since he died (late October or early November, I can’t remember), I’ve been wearing his clothes every day as mourning clothes. I haven’t been able to fully describe what this does for me, but whatever it does is pretty profound. I’ll post on my tumblr when I do figure it out. I’ve been trying to work it into a poem, but it may also come out in one of those posthumous letters I’ve written to my dad on my blog. It’s not that I don’t know the reasons this is seriously important to me – almost like a religious ritual – it’s that I haven’t found the words to describe it yet. It’s very simple, but very complex, at the same time, and I know that makes no sense whatsoever but there you are.
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