A tie

Three years ago this was my dad’s last week battling pancreatic cancer.

I remember so vividly the last place we were before going to the hospital…an outlet mall in New Hampshire. Of all places!

I remember buying a super-colorful orange tie for my dad for Father’s Day, which was the following week.

Unfortunately he didn’t make it to Father’s Day.

A few weeks later, after the funeral had passed and we were cleaning up the house, I came across the tie I bought. You’d never seen so many tears pour down my face.

I went back to the store, tie in hand. As I handed it over to the cashier, my dad’s death became a bit more real. When she asked me if there was anything wrong with the tie, I simply replied, “No. My dad died and never got to wear it.”

Maybe if he’d have worn it, I would have felt differently about returning it. But, although it held the meaning of him not being there to try it on, it was never really his tie to begin with.