We stood in our grandfather’s closet, five granddaughters taking in his treasures. Time advanced through the neat rows: Skinny ties replacing wider versions, oversized frames replacing sleeker ones. At the funeral we tied his silk scarves in our hair, around our wrists and throats, and spoke of how he made his love of life known in the bright colors he favored, the care with which he presented himself to the world. We each selected a pair of his glasses and one of his oversized sweatshirts, holding them close. Our treasures now. — Dayna Sason