Shirt

My favorite denim shirt has been found! 

It's close to 30 years old with more buttons missing than attached and I love it. This is the joy of cleaning out my closet.

It's my most comforting shirt, big enough to double as a blanket at a concert or beach. Many a ferry trip was spent in the solarium wrapped in the shirt like a make-shift sleeping bag.

I don't want to think about all the snot streaks that have crossed the sleeves - hikes without tissues or walking with a child at camp who saw my arm as a Kleenex
. There's a sizable coffee stain on the sleeve, but that just helps ensure no one will ever steal it. And one tiny blood stain from a bad idea.

This shirt saw me through three pregnancies. It's a man's shirt several sizes too big, but I think in the 80s I liked my clothes large like my hair.

I've found myself wearing this worn and ragged shirt nearly every day since its discovery. There is something comforting about being wrapped in old denim as I face so much new. I wondered today as I sat on it at the beach if I was trying to recover youth, but I don't think so. I've got anti-aging cream for that.

Life is lovely now and I wouldn't trade it for any other time, but there's something about this shirt that feels real. This shirt wraps me in stories and experiences that keep whoever I become rooted in the person I have been. Clothes can hide so much for us, but not this shirt. It reminds me of nearly every adventure, heartbreak, sunset, and joy I've known. It wraps me in the courage and memories I need to face the adventures ahead.