The Razor (Part 3)

We just visited home for Christmas -- drive to Minneapolis; train to South Bend; rent a car and drive to Harrisburg. Drive back to Greenville and then South Bend. Fly to Minneapolis; and drive home. Events and people: wedding in Minneapolis, sister and brother-in-law in IN, parents and son and girlfriend (and other son and daughter-in-law [and dog] and other sister), mother, sons and wife+girlfriend and dog, friends in Minneapolis, and finally northwards and home! If it makes your head spin, ours certainly were.

At my Dad's a surprise awaited -- a razor sent by Gillette (I think) for our older son on his 16th birthday (13+ years ago). Since none of us lived anywhere nearby then, the razor became my father's instead. A double-edged razor of the old kind. Younger than my razor (two posts ago), but harking back to yet earlier days.

I did not use it. Vaughn did not take it. It remains with Dad, reminding us of days long past. We stand on the edge of a New Year, having shaved off 2011 and watched it fall to the ground behind us. I stand still between two razors -- a simple single-edged Schick, and a fancy dandy new Gillette arrived (of course) unsolicited in the mail. Between past and present, and embracing both.