My father, although not a poor man, did not leave behind many material items of value in his death. In my mother’s small apartment lies two large boxes filled with DVDs of MASH, books on Alaska, the many decks of playing cards I brought him from the flights I took to see him, and countless photos of his grandchildren that I sent him.
Two items that I did value finally made their way to me yesterday. One was the Alaska license plate that he had on his car when he made his way down the Great Alaska Highway all the way to Southern California in the late 60s. The license plate hung on the wall above the tools in the garage in our Arcadia home for as long as I could remember. I made sure to take it down carefully when I was moving everything out of the house when it was put up for sale. For some reason, I always wanted this piece of family history. My dad offered for me to take it back with me when I last visited him from Japan but I declined at the time. I think I said I would get it the next time I saw him. Little did I know there would be no next time. Perhaps it felt too final for me to take it at the time and I declined, as if taking it would confirm my father would die.
Looking at it now, I realize how beaten up it is, with the blue paint rough from exposure to the elements while it was in service no doubt. Still, for something that is 53 years old, it looks pretty good on the wall in its new home in Tokyo. It's kind of funny to think about the life this license plate has had. It started out on a car in Anchorage in the 60s, eventually went down to California where it rested on a garage wall for decades and now it's made its way all the to Tokyo, Japan. I wonder where it will go in the future when it gets passed down to one of my children.
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| From the wall in a garage in Arcadia, CA to Tokyo, Japan. |
The other item that was sent to me was the last birthday present I gave to my father, a rather uniquely designed wrist watch. Because he always had trouble remembering the time difference when he called me in Japan I found him a watch with two faces showing the two different time zones. It was actually the second watch of this kind that I had gotten him but he cracked the face of the first watch. He loved the watch and it came to me in surprisingly good condition although it needs to have its battery replaced. I hope I can get a new battery soon and start wearing my father's final watch.
Things are finally drawing to a close when it comes to my father. His ashes have finally made their way to my mother, his obituary made it into the LA Times (and the Skagway News!) and these mementos have finally arrived at my doorstep. These two items, of little value to others, will be treasured by me forever.
