Dad had ordered it in
July using Eric’s measurements.
He never lived long enough to see Eric wearing it.
But Eric had followed the instruction anyway.
He had walked into a room filled with black and gray dressed in brilliant red without understanding why.
He simply trusted that Dad had a reason.
And Dad did.
Mr. Lawson eventually joined us carrying another folder.
“There’s more.”
Dad had called certain things in his estate his non-monetary assets.
He had left one for each of us.
Mr. Lawson handed us two envelopes and said Dad specifically wanted us to open them at the cemetery together.
Mine contained an old photograph.
Dad was young, wearing his military uniform.
But instead of standing stiffly for the camera, he was laughing.
Really laughing.
His head was thrown backward, his eyes closed.
I had rarely seen him look that carefree.
On the back, he had written a short message thanking me
