contents of my fathers sweater pocket

one toothpick (used...?), yellow piece of plastic (broken...), $12.41 (in bundles of singles, a five and pocket change...), receipt for payment on one day's late fee on video rental of 'angela's ashes' from 2.04.03. what does this tell me? maybe he had a thing for frank mccourt (which i know to be true, as he told me...), he liked to stuff money in pockets and forget about it (a charming habit that i am trying to emulate...). my fathers sweater pockets, my dad kept all sorts of both useless and usefull stuff in pockets, drawers, shelves, boxes, envelopes, baggies, bookshelves, dressers, corners, garages, windowsills and alot more... i guess that i am alot more like him than i ever saw in the past. the more that i clean from his house and clothing that i wear of his and items that i then place in my apartment that were his, the more that i see that i am physically and emotionally and personality-wise him. if objects own us as he said, then i own parts of him in ways that are greater than skin deep. in the ways that i place all manner of stuff in my pockets, i have placed my dad in those same things and i am become him. contents... i am greater than the sum of my parts, but i am also broken down now into those component parts that make me and him up. he kept alot, a pack rat, as am i and things he had, i don't always know why he kept (years of scratch off lottery tickets... all losers...), but i am the same, who knows when we will need that piece of packing foam that came with my scanner? dunno, but i kept it until today.