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My Father's Handkerchiefs
My father’s handkerchiefs.
My father can't live without his handkerchiefs. He is always holding one in his hands, and when he is not using it, he stores it in the back pocket of his jeans. He has a large collection of handkerchiefs. From red to white, from purple to green, from abstract designs to ones with the image of Mickey Mouse dancing, there’s no day you can see him without one. It doesn't matter if it's raining cats and dogs, if there’s a blizzard outside, if aliens are invading us or even if the sky is falling down, he will always have his handkerchief with him. His sweaty hands were the guilty who condemned him to this particularly object. But he learned to enjoy it. In the house, if he was not sleeping while sitting in the couch with the handkerchief in his face, he was working or doing something else, but of course, the handkerchief was always with him. While seasons change, the handkerchiefs colors change too. Green for spring, copper for summer, orange for autumn and white for winter. In summer vacations, when we usually travel, he has to bring a small extra bag exclusively for his handkerchiefs. When we visit new places, the first thing he looks for are handkerchiefs. They are his favorite souvenirs. Anywhere we go, if we go to an elegant party, if we go to Mars, even if we swim at the sea, he brings them because he likes to combine them with his outfit. His handkerchiefs have been through a lot, from problems to solutions, from sadness to happiness and since I was born until this day. Trough the past of time, those handkerchiefs have traveled more than me. From Mexico to United States, from Nicaragua to Brazil, from France to England, and from China to Mexico again, those handkerchiefs have made a lot of new friends from souvenir stores. Although some of them get very old with time, my father has special affection to them and instead of dumping them, he stores them into a special bag where all his old handkerchiefs are resting until my grandmother repairs them. Without doubt, handkerchiefs have been my father’s personal token since he was a kid, they are now a special part of him and something that will always indentify him. Although this started because a problem, he knew how to deal with it, extracting something good from it.
