Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Hoodie

I wonder what people think when they see her.  Kyra, my fashion queen, wearing the big red hoodie.  And by big, I mean huge.  Made for someone who wears an xxl.  Made for a man over six foot tall.  The hoodie is fleece-lined and warm,  Kyra says "it's like a hug".  A hug that drapes her from the top of her head to below her knees.  Sleeves hang half-empty, one with a cigarette burn on the cuff. She's never smoked.  She's eight.

Kyra wears the hoodie every day there is a chill in the air.  Sometimes she wears it even if it's warm outside. She wraps it around her when she sleeps at night. She snuggles in it when she watches TV or reads a book. I asked her if I could borrow it one day and she refused.  "This is mine" she said "get your own jacket", not maliciously, but defensively - this hoodie has become her security.

So I really do wonder, as I send her off to school in the morning, hugged in the big red hoodie, what do people think?  Do they think I can't afford to buy her a jacket that fits?  Do they think I'm a careless smoker who accidentally burned her daughter's too large hoodie?  Do they think I picked it up at a thrift store thinking it would fit her?

And I wonder what people would say if they knew the truth.  If they knew that the big red hoodie belonged to my dad.  Kyra's grandpa.  Her best buddy.  Her partner in a mutual admiration society.

A few weeks before my dad died he told Kyra and Blaine "Don't you worry about me, I've had a good life. Don't you be sad about me.  You go and live and laugh and enjoy life."

And mostly Kyra does, but on days when it's hard or she's sad she wraps herself up in grandpa's hoodie and feels his hug and knows his love.