Fading Love

When does little boy learn to spell "Happy Fathers Day. I Love You Dad"?  Kindergarten for some, maybe first or second grade? Seventeen or eighteen years ago, or what seems like yesterday.

The key-fob gift is made of plastic and roughly 2 inches by 4 inches with a metal ring attached. Inside the plastic is a white piece of poster paper. One side in blue and black marker the words say Happy Fathers Day. On the reverse in what was once red marker, I Love You Dad. When Aaron gave this chunk of love to me I would have been as grateful as any Dad, and as practical as possible. All of the keys I owned could not balance the heft of this gift and there was no way I could fit keys AND the hunk of plastic into my pocket. I don't remember what I did and I don't recall any feedback from Aaron, but I know the fob never held my keys.

A few months ago Cathy re-gifted me. In a box of odds and ends of sentimental journeys was this unused key-fob. Multicolored and in the hand writing of a child who knew how to say I Love You, the little treasure now fit perfectly into my world. I took the fob right to my car where I found a place to hang it so I could always see Aaron saying "I Love You Dad" and the sun shined a little brighter on me in the driver's seat. To hear him say the words I have to concentrate and will the sound of his lost voice. The tone has faded to nearly silent.

I noticed the letters are a little less sharp. The sun working daily, not time, is dulling the ink. Slowly and visibly the words are fading away.  Maybe I will keep it riding with me until the end of the Ten Days of May. With a small addition to the key holder, the fob could make a Christmas ornament.