The manly smell of my father’s things wafted out of the drawer as I slid it open. As a small child, I loved to look at my father’s box. It was a place where he kept strange little things I didn’t yet understand. A medal from the National Guard. A picture of my mom long before I knew her. Small pins that represented things I didn’t know about. A picture of himself in what I assumed was his favorite car. A ticket. A matchbook or two. I would hold these things in my fingers, tracing their edges, and wonder what […]