Old Blue

Old Blue

My mom found a cobalt hoodie for me in one of those Carhartt stores years ago. I must have been 14. Whenever it was cold enough outside for a sweater, on it would go. I wore it through most of middle school, all of high school and until the last few weeks of college. It had a hole in the right hand pocket that had been sewn countless times and smelled like trees. Both pockets had innumerable holes from one inch My Bloody Valentine and Velvet Underground buttons. But I didn’t mind.

In college, many of my friends would spot the hoodie to identify me in a crowd. It appeared in 95 percent of all photos and was even used as a pillow several times on my trip to Iceland. And now it is gone.

I don’t mind, really. An ex-girlfriend hijacked old blue and it remains lost in the shuffle. Even though some of my friends are nostalgic for it, I dismiss the longing with a feeble shrug. There are times when it would be nice to wear it again, but nothing lasts forever and time marches on.

Perhaps in my subconscious I didn’t ask to reclaim what was mine because there are more hoodies out there. Or maybe it was just growing up.

After the loss, I went hoodie shopping with one of my good friends at Target and bought one in dark green. It isn’t the same, but gets the job done!