My daughter and grandchildren came home for the holidays.  I knew I  needed to give her something meaningful of her dads and I knew it needed to be the sweater he wore so much the last month of his life.  It hadnt been washed and still has a feint hint of Tom.  It has been folded in his dresser since I brought it home the morning he passed away.  I would take it out and hold it and cry into it more times than I can count.  And yet I knew it was the one thing his daughter wanted to have.  So today when they were all packed and loading the car, I went into the room, closed the door, held the sweater one more time and had a good cry.  Then I walked out, put it in her arms, hugged her tight and let it go.  Im still struggling with the fact it is gone from my house, but I am also proud of me for letting our daughter have a small piece of what I am surrounded in still.  Maybe it will catch her tears in the night and bring her the feeling of connection to her dad.  Good bye gold chenille sweater, keep my daughter safe!