And by “tribute” I mean “Hey, Dad, thanks for teaching me stuff!”, not “My dad was a great guy, we’ll all miss him.” Not the morbid kind of tribute.
This is from Ian Frazier, in next month’s (July 2007) Outside magazine, in a feature called “How To Do Everything,” thirty-six short pieces that pretty much cover the title subject. Frazier’s piece is called “Leave a Motel Room.” It’s about how to pack up your stuff while minimizing forgotten items and door-slamming that wakes up your sleeping neighbors. Here’s the last bit:
For the very last, I always get down and look under the bed. I have never once found any forgotten object there, but I always check just the same. On family trips when I was little, my father always used to do that last of all. He has been dead now for 20 years; I like to imprint on my mind the same under-motel-room-bed vista that he saw. At this moment of transience, it gives me a reassuring sense of eternity.
I couldn’t have said it better. I do the same thing and think of my dad every time. One of these days I’ll call him to let him know I didn’t find anything under the bed this time either, but thanks for teaching me to look.
