wallet.

I woke up this morning and struggled for a few hours trying to remember what his wallet looked like. Finally it came back to me. It was black leather, possibly man-made materials and a big embroidered iron cross was on one side. Two metal snaps were an upgrade from velcro. Those metal snaps wore holes in all his pants - two lonely symmetrical holes. Those holes were always on the outside of his right back pocket, he wore his wallet in that pocket with the snaps facing out, preventing awkwardness when he sat down.

There was a cheap chain attached to the willet with a flimsy clip that always got stuck on out seatbelts when he sat in the passenger side. When the clip finally gave out, I bought him two replacements for a gift. I think it was Christmas. The length of chain was the key, and I never got a chance to sneak a measurement. The other end of the chain had a leather loop he could attach to his right front belt loop. It was more of a security (and forgetfulness) measure than a fashion statement.

I wonder if he has upgraded to a more acceptable couture wallet. It wouldn’t seem acceptable to approach the New York society with a wallet chain...it would seem too simple for them.

I’m not sure what makes me more upset - trying to come to grips with the fact that I’ve lost the person, or realizing that soon I’ll start losing the memories and the details. Is this like “Beaches”, when Hillary starts ripping apart her beach house trying to find a photo of her mother’s hands? I’m at a loss...