day 2

Eight days and 23 boxes later, I was done. With everything packed away the room didn't look so small.  The smell was still there, though.
It smelled like Sunday mornings, like old typewriter ribbons, like very strong coffee.
I could still make out his shape sitting at his desk, glass of water sitting dangerously at the edge, the sides of his hands black because of newspaper ink.
I remember sitting next to him and playing quietly on the ground while listening to him scribble endlessly on his papers.
My first book was an old edition of The Jungle Book. I was mogli for Halloween. It was the coldest October in 20 years and there was I, barefoot and shirtless walking from house to house with the greatest smile on my face.
He looked at me and just laughed at everybody's face of astonishment when they saw me.
He brought me home and drew a hot bath to make sure I didn't catch a cold. When obviously I did, while I was in bed, he brought me a copy of Robinson Crusoe and wrote on the back " it could be worse. You could be stranded in an island with no books. "
I would always get books for my birthday. I would get the regular gifts, the occasional football, a tee ball kit. But books were always the icing on the cake.
When he fell ill, I was 800 miles away. When my mother told he'd lost his sight, my world shattered.
I knew that would drive him crazy, so I did the best I could. I sat on my desk at school and read him his favorite books over a tape recorder.
He left halfway through American Gods, by Neil Gaiman. I wish I could say his last book was The Great Gatsby or something more profound, but I had been turning him on to newer authors and he seemed to like it.
While I was packing, I fold this old envelope in the back of the bookcase. It had my name on it and my birthday on the back. It read " son,
You just arrived. I can't stop shaking of joy, please forgive these squiggles. When you have your own kids you'll understand.  I love you. You deserve the world. That's why I'll teach you how to discover everything you'll ever need in the confines of your own mind. I love you. I don't know what I should do first, but I think I'll get you a book. What am I thinking, you can't even hold your head up yet! But I know I love you. Every page ever written is meant for you.
Read all you can. That's the best advice I can give you. I love you. Welcome".
I sat there on his office floor, almost in the same place I used to when i was a kid and cried.
After taking the boxes to the car, I sat on my car and opened my copy of The Jungle Book and wrote " son, this is the greatest gift my dad ever gave me. Happy birthday" and I drove away home with my dad on my mind.