One of the first things I remember associating with my father was his Zippo lighter that I found long after he had left us on our own. It was just that generic chrome Zippo that has been burned into the American collective pop culture subconscious.
Many years later after he had passed away, I found another one in his junked out van. It was as if he had left another one for me to find with some hidden message I’ve yet to figure out. Maybe it was just verification that, yes, this was in fact him and once again he was gone.