Grandpa’s stuff.

mothWell, today I scored a bunch of socks (yes!!) & boxer shorts that, sadly, I think I can fit. As we went through Grandpa’s shirts, though, I experienced a certain amount of sad reticence because when I looked at certain shirts I could practically see him there in them.   There were some shirts that I remember him wearing 30 years ago, as we safari’d through Chinatown for groceries.

When I was 7 I told him I wanted to be a fish cutter when I grew up after I saw an old lady slicing a bigass raw liver at the Kekaulike Street fish market.   It just looked so cool.   At the time I said that I thought he was laughing out loud because it was such a great idea.

“I think Uncle Sam might like a lot of these shirts,” my grandmother said to me as we surveyed Grandpa’s neatly kept closet.

“Why don’t we keep a few,” I said.   “For cold nights.”


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