Given enough time, almost any house will collect ghosts. My house has plenty, even though I'm not one for hanging onto the past. Usually they creep in silently, like dust bunnies under the bed: When you see them, you know they must have been there for a long time, but you never catch them coming in the door.
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In many ways my triage tag is a symbol of survival and a job performed. But it's also a reminder that my father wanted to protect me even as our world was shifting and his was ending. His love endures and that knowledge bubbles up and makes me happy every time I think about my triage tag on display at the museum.