Lista lived in Montreal after college and there he lived a rather simple life. He was in love with a girl, and he would write poetry and didn’t know what would happen to him.
Back home, however, his parents were “breaking up in slow motion”, with the “first ominous sign” being his dad liquidating his closet.
A melancholy windfall came my way. Sometimes it was he who offered them to me, with the cheery derring-do of a man going off to war—here’s that old silver suit you used to love when you were a boy, that houndstooth blazer I wore to your graduation. Other times it was my mom who gave the clothes over, offloading them in a grief she could palliate by giving me a sad, sweet gift.
Nevertheless, Lista would be wearing his dad’s old clothes for almost a decade. Find out why on The Walrus.
What are your thoughts on this one?
(Image Credit: Michael Lista/ The Walrus)
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The year after my mom died, when we went out to dinner on our wedding anniversary I wore the dress my mom had worn to our wedding 30+ years before. I found it comforting, even if it was out of style.
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