Dad’s Leather Jacket

Dear dad,

Today, I unlocked your steel cupboard for the first time since you left us.
As I turned the key in the lock, the mass of muscle filament in my chest felt lighter.
The haunting aroma of your treasured cologne amidst your belongings overwhelmed me.
I gently traced my fingers along the neatly stacked pile of polo necks, vibrant shirts, and even your sublime tuxedos.
But my meandering eyes paused on your archaic leather jacket.
The leather jacket that shielded the weight you carried on your shoulders, just so that mine would be lighter.
It may have been the dead of winter, but have I ever told you how warm I feel in your leather jacket?
It astounded me, however, that your enormous leather jacket with its glazed rustic exterior and asymmetric zips, seemed to fit my slender physique.
I found the travesty absurd.
It was at that moment, that I had an epiphany –
Of your shoes that I would have to fill,
Of your leather jacket that was now mine to wear,
But more importantly, the resolutions that I would have to settle now that you are gone.
It probably struck me in that radical of a second that daddy’s little girl was perhaps not so little anymore.

Zara Kennedy is a journalism student at CHRIST University, Bangalore. She is passionate about poetry, art, and social welfare.

Featured image credit: Clker-Free-Vector-Images/Pixabay