Eight or nine years ago Dad spotted a leather jacket at our local secondhand store that looked like it might be my size. As soon as I arrived home from class he told me about it. I’d been looking for a new jacket for some time and hadn’t found anything I liked yet so I drove over to the shop sure that someone else had bought it.
It was hanging right where Dad had last seen it. At first glance I wasn’t sure if I liked it; the color was a little more auburn than I had imagined would be my next jacket. I tried it on anyway. It was a perfect fit.
I wore that jacket everywhere. It wrapped around me as I walked to my car late at night after work and hung over the back of my chair through countless hours of studying at the library. I wore it the first time I met Drew and took it off just minutes before meeting my newborn nephew four winters ago.
A Few Years Ago
The lining in it began to fall apart. That was ok, though, as I was the only person who ever saw it. I also wasn’t sure how easy it would be to replace the lining as the inside of the coat was falling apart almost as quickly as the lining itself.
When the zipper started to stick I quickly learned to hold the bottom stop and pull tab just so. At the right angle it still worked ok.
Last spring I noticed a series of holes that had developed on the jacket. I planned to have them fixed until I realized that some sections of my jacket were more air than coat. Reluctantly I threw it away just before we moved out here.
Normally I’m not a sentimental person. Most stuffs exist for almost wholly practical reasons in my mind. The only exceptions to this are a couple of boxes of keepsakes: photo albums, my wedding dress, a few childhood outfits and some other small, miscellaneous items. Yet there was something bittersweet about throwing that jacket out. So much of my life – good, bad and mundane – passed while I wore it.
Over the last few days I’ve been feeling nostalgic about the past in general. Part of this can be explained by the message boards at The Ooze coming back. The beta test of the boards is full of Ooze old-timers. I’ve missed talking with so many of them. The years when I was most active there were personally difficult for a variety of reasons but we had such stimulating conversations on the boards. I don’t want to go back to the hard times but I do miss the positive stuff!
If only there could be one without the other.
What do you do when you’re feeling nostalgic?