Day 7

My dad loved westerns, black licorice, honesty, hard work, extra starch on his shirts, growing giant pumpkins and beautiful roses, Diet Coke, golfing, Hawaii, and black fleece sweat pants. With pockets.

Every Christmas his wish list would include the same fleece sweat pants. Black. With pockets. You see, my dad was the CEO and President of a major pharmaceutical company as well as a board member and Chair of several other companies. His career involved hard work, stress, travel, lecturing, writing, managing, developing, researching, and more hard work. When he left for the office every morning, after eating his daily banana and glass of skim milk, he walked out the door wearing a suit, a stiffly starched dress shirt, and a pair of Johnston and Murphy loafers.

He loved spending his weekends relaxing at home in the yard, moving rocks around the stream bed, cleaning the pool, walking around town with my mom and entertaining family. In his sweats. Black. Fleece. With pockets.

When he passed away in 2005, he had accumulated an impressive collection of business attire. Suits, ties, shoes, and stiffly starched shirts. There were even a few pairs of worn cowboy boots and hats. But what reigned supreme in his closet was sweats. Black. Fleece. With pockets. My wise mother tucked all this fleece away with a project in mind.

She spent this past year, planning, cutting, pinning, trimming, and quilting each of us daughters our very own quilt made from my dad's black fleece sweats. With pockets. Inside each pocket was tucked a few momentos belonging to my dad. Business cards with his signature, a name badge from a convention, and one of his personalized golf tees.

It's my favorite Christmas gift ever. I miss my dad and look forward to our reunion one day. Until then, I will always feel the love of my dad as I wrap his quilt around me. The one made of his fleece. Black. With pockets.