Jilly D.

Is it spring yet?

In Mourning, Time and seasons on March 21, 2011 at 10:59 pm

I left Sam’s “Mad Bomber” hat in Bruno Schickel’s pickupwhen I broke my wrist and didn’t realize it. Bruno returned it to me a week later and I haven’t worn it since.

The ear flaps lined in rabbit skin and the dirty lining made it a perfect hat to wear while walking the dogs in winter. Its smell and familiarity kept Sam wrapped around my head.

I don’t need to wear his hat anymore. He wore so many hats; style and color had slight variations but always earflaps, chin strap and head fully covered. His welding caps he wore even in summer.

Sam wore hats that will never fit me. The size is right, but I can’t weld or snowplow or manage a herd of deer, elk or buffalo. I can’t wear all those different hats of his.

I loved him in each of those hats. This one I had kept for myself. It hung near the door on the antlers. I’ve hung my head and cried in this hat. It still has the smell and warmth of him, but it’s not mine to wear. I borrowed it long enough. And the sun is out. The snow melts. Time to put away winter things.


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