day.one.hundred.sixty.four.

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dad’s closet.  it’s weird walking into a house that he lived in.  i am kind of grateful i did not grow up in this house so i don’t have a million memories piercing my heart and mind. but i was not looking forward to this day.  walking in to his house and seeing photos of him. seeing a rack of his hats.  seeing his closet (with the sweater he was wearing when i said goodbye last). seeing his side of the bed.  seeing his handwriting on papers in the office.  seeing him.  he is everywhere. truly, it is haunting.

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