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3:40am
February 5, 2015
Dear Anna and Ron,
Thank you so much for the backpack Ron made. I wasn’t sure what I’d do with it. Then they gave me an oxygen canister that was larger and made me walk lopsided and bash into things on the normal shoulder strap. Ron’s backpack was the perfect solution, and I have already used it and felt way better for doing so.
I know you guys put a lot of thought into what you sent me and I wanted to thank you for that. I also know you have a knack for sending me things none of us knows the use for, until suddenly a use becomes glaringly apparent. Thanks for that too.
I love you both. Ron, I wish you could be here to read this. i just have to hope that wherever you are, whatever you are now, you can still feel my gratitude for so many things I can’t even name them (though that doesn’t stop me from trying – now that you’re a writer, you should appreciate that impulse, at least.
Love,
Mel
[Image description: A red backpack with leather or faux-leather parts, handmade by my father, with a tag saying “An Original by Ron Baggs”. My father made a lot of backpacks, this is just one of them, and the perfect size for me.]
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.