To Dady

And I picked up the next item from the box, and it was an envelope, inscribed "To Dady". And I opened it, and it contained a card, and the only words written on the card were the same as the envelope, "To Dady". And I looked at it, and suddenly broke down and cried.

I recognized the handwriting, it was mine, from when I was very young, not past first grade, if that. And all I'd needed to do was find a nice card, a raccoon cleaning its food, and write "To Dady", no need for anything else, and that card was treasured, and kept for 35 years, and then set aside with other items to be looked at and disposed of following my father's death, and now, 9 years later, I reach into a box and find this message of love. "To Dady".

And I cry. I cry for my father, who is long gone. I cry for myself, for the child who could write such a simple note on a card. And I cry for myself, who has no child, and has never known what it is like to have such a card given to him.

And the card sits on the box, and I know it is there, and I cry.