A dead man lives...

A few months back, a dear friend of ours passed away. He was 60 years old.

My mother has been helping his widow go through all of his belongings to process them and organize them. He was a well dressed man in his day and I am the recipient of 6 suits, 4 blazers, and numerous shirts and trousers. The clothes fit neither of my brothers.

Anyway, over the last few weeks, I've been wearing his clothes. That doesn't bother me so much. In fact, I think he's post-humously making me a better dresser.

What is interesting is how I'll put my hand in a suit pocket or the back pocket of some pants and find something that he put there.

Today, I found a cocktail napkin. I've found a dollar bill and a button, among other things.

It's just weird to think that he put these things there whenever he did and now I'm taking them out. It makes me pause to think about the man and in a different twist, what was happening to him when he put the item in there at the time.

The possibilities are endless:
Did he get change for $10 bill and only need 9?
Was he at a party on his way out and didn't see a trash can, so put the napkin in his pocket?
Did he find a button on the street or his desk? Was he doing a friend a favor?

I guess it doesn't matter, but it gives me a unique chance to have a 1:1 bond with a departed friend.