My parents are gone, but I still have their things. A plate, a chair, a matchbook, a sweater, an old cell phone. Something of them lives on in this stuff. Send a picture of an object and tell me what it does to you and how it makes you feel about your mom and dad, dead or alive. Then go clean up your room. Thank you
My father’s three great loves were my mother, me and baseball. This is his glove. He played in high school and college and in a neighborhood league after the war. He wanted to try out for the major leagues but he was too short. In one game he was sliding into a base when his forehead slammed into the baseman’s knee. “Be sure to get my glove,” he said before he blacked out and was taken off the field. Because of that I wanted to put his glove in his coffin when he died in 2003, but I couldn’t find it in time. I discovered it later and just can’t throw it away.