Hand Me Down

About five years ago, I gave my dad a jacket shirt sort of thing for his birthday.



Can you believe I had a picture of Dad opening his gift? Crazy! The jacket was a sturdy denim type fabric on the outside, and lined with fleece. The sleeves were lined with a quilted fabric. Dad got colder as he got older, so he wore it a lot, both inside and out.

When Loren was here this month, he went through Dad's clothes with Mom and set aside the things he could wear and would like. Since the jacket shirt came later in life, it was smaller. (Well, smaller for Dad. You know, just a large.) Too small, anyway, for my big brother. So Mom gave it to Dave.

Silly Mother.

We brought it home. I washed it (to get rid of the mildewy smell that pervades Mom and Dad's house) and hung it out to dry. Once it was dry, I hung the jacket shirt in my closet, where it belongs. I've really enjoyed wearing my dad's jacket on these cold wintry mornings.

I wore it over to Mom's last week and she was happy to see me in it. She said, "It's perfect!" And she's right. Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad.