Dull knives that cut deep

Our knives have not been sharpened since Papa died. He used to check them when he visited, cluck, and shake his head at our clear negligence. Oozing exasperation, he'd say "You kidz," then dutifully sharpen all he could find into tip-top cutting form.

I love the way he talked with his whole body, moving his hands, shuffling his feet. Character! Hair to toenails, full of it.

I miss his gestures like I miss his voice. Which is to say, a whole heck of a lot.

Alas, we have a knife sharpener but I can't get myself to use it. Don't try to cut a tomato at our house. It's a sad affair.