That evening in the park, when you asked me if I could feel the wind, all I really felt was the sunshine on my face and the leaf that you picked up from the ground and put in my hand, saying it was a time machine. I laughed at that moment, but years later I still travel back in time to that evening every time I see the leaf hanging on my bedroom wall, framed in the shiny shade of yellow that years ago we chose together in perfect agreement.

It took me some time, but I can feel it now, Dad. I can feel the wind blowing in my face and I can hear the sound that it makes as it whispers in my ears. Today, as I do every November, I bring you another time machine to celebrate the good old days when I learned from you that even the simplest things in life could be special. Dad, how does the wind feel up there?