Tie
I've only wore a tie a dozen times in my life. Once willingly (for my brother's wedding). And only twice by choice (the first time was at my wedding).
Granted, my initial reason this second time around was to prove to Wendy that I could. You see, I had never successfully tied a tie either. So, as Wendy got ready for work, I did a little searching online, found some helpful diagrams, and did a passing good job if I say so myself. She was suitably impressed, I felt pretty good about myself, and knew I would fit in at the fancy restaurant we were going out to.
As the day went on, I realized there was more significance to the tie. It was one of the ties I brought back from my Grandfather's funeral earlier this summer. All day little snippets of time spent with him came to mind. The crossword puzzles he always worked on in the morning. The jokes he would always tell at our family reunions. How he made fun of me and Wendy because he never saw us not holding hands that trip to D.C. I realized that, in that little piece of fabric, as well as my heart and my memories, Grandpa will live on. It makes me feel a little better about tying a rope around my neck every now and then knowing that he is there with me in spirit.
