Loose Leaf Notes

The Irish look within and see behind – know the heart and read the mind ~ written on a plaque in my father’s bedroom
Turns out my dad had the best room in the house. In the past when I visited him and my mom I slept in the small third floor attic bedroom that could double for a sauna on hot summer nights. Now that he’s gone, my mother has set me up in his room on the second floor. Not only is it cool and breezy because of the windows cross ventilation, but I recently discovered that I can pick up free wireless from the bed. The digital scale I used to slip in his room to weigh myself on is here. So is the best morning meditation chair. But I miss his suspenders and sweater that used to be draped across the back of it. His shoes are not on the floor by the chair waiting for him to put them on.
The patterns in the wood furniture that dates back to when my parents were newlyweds stir childhood memories as I look at them now. When I was a girl the dresser and bureau held adult mysteries, and sometimes I would peek into that world. The pictures on the walls are familiar. Mostly they’re photographs that tell my father’s life story. The one above the bed hung in our living room for years when my siblings and I were growing up. It’s a seascape with a big rock on the shoreline that we used to think was a giant horseshoe crab.
Cassette tapes of big band music and songs from the 40’s are still on a bedside bookcase. Their melodies used to play softly in the background, but now they are only memories. There’s no clutter, and the simple things I associated with my father – bottles of Vicks vapor rub, eye drops, and vitamins – are gone. The Chinese medicine balls that I gave him as a gift many years ago are still here in their blue satin container. I find myself staring at them and remembering his hands as he twirled them. They rang like a bell as they clanged together.
When I first arrived for my weeklong vacation I noticed that my father’s scent was gone from the room. But now I’m not so sure. Sometimes when I take a deep breath I think I can sense a faint hint of it.