My dad’s closet made me cry. Anyone who knows my dad knew that :A: he loved his black ,grey, and navy blue mostly firefighting t-shirts and B: he liked to look nice in his dress shirts too. But not many understand a main reason why. When my dad was young he did not have many clothes. When he and mom got together he had a few outfits. Those clothes were not fancy and because of where he had to store them they smelled horribly like must. My mom took them home and washed them before taking them to the new apartment. From that time on my mom made sure my dad had nice clothes. They didn’t have to be expensive clothes but they were well taken care of and he felt good in them. Over the years both my parents gave up having new clothes, shoes , and coats so us kids could have them. I remember my daddy’s work boots lying outside on the garbage pile because they were so worn out and the sole came off. One of his family members picked the boots up and laughed as they tossed them down. He used the money that week to buy us kids shoes. Later that day my Pap Slate made my dad go buy new boots with money he gave him. As us kids grew up and went out on our own mom and dad were able to have a little money to buy themselves things. Dad got a little obsessed (in a good way) with buying tshirts online and at thrift stores. He amassed quite a collection. Every once in a while he would clean them out and share them with people. After Dad died nobody touched his clothes. We knew we wanted to get memory bears made with them, but I think in our hearts we couldn’t bear the thought of that closet. Tonight me, Annie Seaton, Gary Heller , and Mom Sarah Slate Seaton opened that closet. For about 20 minutes we just sat there crying and talking and staring into Dad’s closet. You may look at that picture of that old closet and just see stuff. I look at it and I see pictures of my dad like a fashion show rolling through my mind of him in each piece of clothing . I see his smile and remember what his hugs felt like in those shirts. (He gave the best hugs!) And I remember that each article of clothing meant something to my dad. He never complained that he didn’t have anything to wear. He wore each thing with a fully appreciative heart. I never knew how much Dad’s clothes would mean to me and my family. I brought home one of his many flannels. He always looked so handsome in them with a pair of jeans and his belt. I tucked my pillow inside that shirt and tied those arms in a hug. I miss you Daddy Harry Seaton!! I love you. Until I can hug you again in Heaven, your shirt will have to do, your closet made me cry.