The Leather Jacket

I love to celebrate. I love the holidays, I love parties, I love being with people I love. My two favorite holidays are Christmas and birthdaysJ More specifically, my birthday, but I love other people’s too, haha! Come to think about it, Christmas is a birthday party too… Maybe that’s what I love about it…

But I am getting side tracked. This blog isn’t about Christmas, but it is about a birthday. A birthday that means a lot to me. A birthday that I never want to forget. A birthday that I will never get to celebrate the same way ever again.

You see, today would have been my dad’s 61^st birthday. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted to blog about this today, but for the sake of my own need to still grieve, and in honor of him, I share with you.

Nine and a half years ago, I lost my best friend. And even though it has been that long, it still hurts, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about him. Not a day goes by I don’t have something happen that I wish I could share with him. And almost everyday something happens that reminds me of him.

He was an incredible person. It still blows my mind that to this day, people still say the most wonderful things about my dad. Recently I had someone tell me, “Even though I never met your dad, I have heard wonderful things, and wish I could have known him.” It took everything in me not to cry when I heard that. Because, even though I know my dad is with the Lord, I still miss him, and there is a part of me that doesn’t want other people to forget how he impacted their lives.

Like I mentioned earlier, there are things every day that reminds me of my dad. When I am downtown Seattle and pass by Seattle’s Best coffee, I am reminded of our dates to go get white chocolate mochas. Or when I drove past Dick’s burgers today, it reminded me of going there with my dad for the first time when I was about 12. You would have thought that he was going to introduce me to a celebrity the way he described those burgers. But let me tell you, he wasn’t far off in that description.

Or I will see an Old Spice commercial on the tv and I’ll think of him. I’ll see flannel socks and chuckle. But one thing that gets me at my core every single time is the smell of leather. My dad had the most beautiful leather jacket, and every time he wore it I would bury my face in the sleeve and inhale. As a child, it was the safest, most wonderful place to be. And as an adult, if he were still here, it would still be the safest and most wonderful place. Because it would mean that I was with him. And one day, when we are all with the Lord, I will be with him again. And because we serve such an amazing God, I am pretty sure that the Lord will provided leather jackets and Jones sodas in heavenJ

So in honor of my father, teacher, hero, friend – I share the following. Dad, I love you more today than I did yesterday. And even though I only had you for 14 ½ years, I still had you… and I am thankful for that every day. Happy Birthday… I love you….

The Leather Jacket

           

            I had a plan, a goal, a “to do list”. Today was the day that I would accomplish great things. If this was the case, then why was I still in my pajamas? The house needed to be cleaned, laundry needed to be done and the dishes were waiting. Because I was alone, I knew it would be easy to finish my tasks.

            Rarely a day has past when I haven’t thought of him, but today wasn’t as hard as some had been. The ache was pushed aside as I focused on the things that needed to be accomplished. Now where was the duster? I checked the cleaning basket, but couldn’t find the one that I was looking for. I remembered that there was an extra one in the coat closet. I opened the closet door and quickly found the desired object.

But as I reached for the duster, I saw it. I hadn’t thought about it in months, but there it hung. Should I? I mean, does it even still smell the same? I gently laid the duster down on the carpeted floor, and reached to take the jacket off the hanger. As I held it in my hands, I brought it to my nose and inhaled deeply. My eyes filled with tears, and I  slipped my arms into the oversized sleeves. My body soon began to shake from the sobs that racked my frame. There is no way that after all this time it could still smell like him, yet it did. As I wept, I cried out to the empty house, “Dad, I miss you so much! Why did you have to leave? I need you so badly right now! Oh Dad….I miss you!”

As I continued to cry, I began to relive what I loved most about that leather jacket. Dad would usually wear that jacket to church on Sundays. I loved to sit next to him and smell it. He would let me take his arm and lean on him. As I leaned on him, I couldn’t help but continuously inhale the unique smell of the black leather coat. To this day I can still remember the feeling of his strong arm through the sleeve, the comforting feeling of the sleek, cool leather against my face, as I rested my head on his shoulder.

That jacket signified more than just an article of clothing. It was a symbol. A symbol of security that a child found in the steadfastness and stability of a parent. The comfort of the familiar and the known. The memories of sweet times and closeness.

After my sobs had subsided, I got up off the floor, hung up the coat and dried my eyes. My moment of grief had past. I continued about my day, and got the things done that I needed to finish. But in that one moment of grief, I accomplished much more than what I had set out to do that day. I relived a part of my life that I never want to lose touch of. I experienced once again the security of my father’s love and support as I wrapped the jacket around myself. Even though my heart was breaking as I relived the loss of my dad, I was flooded with those wonderful memories that can bring comfort amidst the seemingly bottomless sea of grief. I know pain will never fully go away, but at least when I hold, smell, and touch the familiarity of that leather jacket, I am home.