More Than An Umbrella
I don't have too many things that my dad got me. I have the collection of spoons he would always get me whenever he went anywhere (he would buy thimbles for my sister). I have the multi-tool he bought for me when I first started up at Potsdam. I'm sure some of the t-shirts or DVDs or CDs I have were birthday/Christmas gifts from him, but I don't remember which. I have a purple umbrella he bought for me, another thing for when I started at Potsdam. It's stupid, I remember telling him, I won't need or use it! but he bought it anyway, and four years later... it's broken. And I don't think it can be fixed. And I cried. I cried over a broken umbrella. I cried over more than just a broken umbrella. I cried because it's one less thing I have from him. It's one less thing I have that has a memory about him attached to it. I know he's watching over my siblings and I. I know he smiles when we succeed and I know...