I dropped by the Goodwill post today and gave boxes of stuff over to the organization. I was more than happy to donate loads of stuff that had been taking up so much precious space in my house. It's often something that I can describe as cathartic, giving away things that I no longer need and at the same time gaining something valuable from the act of kindness; namely the extra space!

So I dropped the stuff off and headed home for what I was calling, "The Afternoon o' Charla". Blake had offered to pick Catie up from school and I had a few hours to spend doing whatever I wanted to do. In this case, I cleaned up the house and then took a nap. So, my idea of a great afternoon has changed. Lots of things about me have changed. Anyway, after about an hour of blissful sleep, I awoke with an obese cat on my head and a cramp in my neck. That damn cat is huge. Anyway, there was a cat, a cramp in my neck and a strange longing in my heart. It occurred to me that I had given away Daddy's leather jacket.

Now, surely you all can go along with me here. Has a special person in your life ever owned something that was so ever present that it became inextricably part of your view of that person? I'm not sure when he bought that jacket, but I think it had to be sometime in the 70s. It was a medium brown, the soft buttery leather was probably the color that you would think of if someone told you about a chestnut colt. It was cut in a style that had always flattered my dad's athletic build and he'd worn it through the ups and downs of a couple of decades. I could remember him wearing it like a sport coat, the tie and shirt along with the jacket signifying that something big was about to happen. Or, at times, it meant that Daddy had been successful at losing weight and was once again able to fit in it. It was was beautiful and it was always there in the closet either waiting for a special moment or a declaration that it was again in style.

He gave it to me recently when I was rounding up items for a rummage sale that would benefit a charitable organization. Mama gave me her suede jacket with fringe on it and Daddy thought that if she could give that away, he could probably part with his favorite jacket. We laughed about how long he'd had that coat and I loaded it all in my car. I didn't actually get it into the sale, so I bunched it up with a lot of other things that I wanted to donate. I wish I had thought about it a bit more, because I think if I had, I would have come to the conclusion that I should keep it. After all, it had been present in so many of my memories and to have it would be like having a tangible symbol of not only dad, but my childhood. Maybe that is what I ultimately miss right now...