A few years ago my uncle and aunt were cleaning out boarded up rooms in my step grandmother's 200-year-old home. They passed on several things that belonged to my dad, that she had preserved. Some things were reminders and not too surprising. Other things were quite interesting and very much surprising. (It's like recently discovering in the newly released digital newspaper archives that my father received awards in high school for FHA projects and duties -- for which he never mentioned to us children, probably because he always felt like a failure and that without all the official titles as a grown man, his accomplishments in high school didn't matter. That breaks my heart. He was brilliant and very talented, and the world missed out on most of who he was.)
One of the things passed on to me were wooden maple leaves. The leaves had small wooden pieces attached to them to serve as mini shelves. The leaves were stained brown. Adam painted them red and white and decided to use them in the den to display pictures of his Canada trips. How fitting. I wish Dad could see how even his son-in-law appreciates the little things he did. I love to walk into the den and to be reminded of Dad and the things that make Adam happy.
