while going through stuff...

The past two weeks have been a time of going through every item my family and I own. We call ourselves the shit warriors. I think it is a very therapeutic activity--organizing, packing, and thanking your things, thinking about how much joy they have brought you. Some things, I will find and run up to my Dad, "were you missing this?" and watch as a smile springs to his face. Yesterday, it was an old sweatshirt from Bryce Canyon; today, it was as simple as a staple remover--his dad's. However, the best thing about finding these treasures, are the hugs I share with him after returning the lost, the old, the cherished. He is my lost, old, cherished. Sometimes, we lose ourselves, and that is just a part of life. I miss him, though he is right upstairs, sitting in his chair. He isn't taking much stuff with him when we go, no pictures, no do-dads, just the really important, functional things. The minimalist himself. I've missed him for a long time, and sometimes I sit and wonder if I ever really knew him, if anyone did. But I know the forests and cornfields of his childhood did, I know the arrowhead amulet around his neck does. I envy those who know him, who understand him. How could someone be so elusive their entire life? How could someone keep all of their secrets and stories from their wife and children? He simply folded himself into his work, folded himself into the everyday nothingnesses of going to the grocery store, feeding the squirrels, taking out the trash. He became simply what he does, which is so complicated I've never understood it. I used to think he was a spy, which would explain everything.
I hope to one day know him, my Daddy, sweet little mouse-man. I hope to one day hear his life story, to understand why, to understand how. This man holds all the secrets of the universe. I sit next to him at dinner every night. I will never stop loving him, but like understanding god, I fear I will only know in Heaven. Regardless, I will love him, without prying, without feeling bad that he has never talked about himself. 
I love you, Daddy.