Our fingers kissed cufflinks, watches and his Serenity Prayer coin. My brother and I sought knowledge through my father's belongings, as we packed up his apartment after his death. Starched clothes, suits protected by plastic bags from the dry cleaner, button-down shirts ready to wear all stood in his closet on hanger after hanger.
Once when I was home from college, my dad picked me up for a lunch date. He stepped out of his Ford pick-up wearing a loud blue plaid button-down shirt.
