Yesterday I took six boxes of memories to the thrift store, filled with the remnants of your time here.
Comics. Superheroes. Books. Model kits. CDs.
Only things, but each infused with a memory of where it came from and the thoughts in my mind when I got it for you.
Some brought a brief smile to my lips, tinged with sadness that now they are just another jumble of generic toys in cardboard boxes.
Tomorrow another father will buy one of these things for his boy, in his heart the same hope I felt long ago that the purchase will be appreciated, at least for a little while, until it too finds its way into a big box filled to overflowing with memories.