My mom found it by accident in my dad’s drawer. She was too embarrassed to ask him what it was…

ready for church. It is my father standing beside him as a boy. It is a quiet morning in a house that no longer exists. It is a memory that somehow survived inside a drawer.

My mother cleaned it gently with a soft cloth. She did not scrub it too hard because we did not want to erase its age. The little scratches, the dull shine, and the worn edges are continue reading …