THE WORN OUT SWEATSHIRT
What happened to the average I-don’t-care-what-I-wear-on-Saturday people? They’re either gone or they’re hiding.
This was a typical Saturday for me with a few exceptions. Work in the morning hit the gym early and take care of whatever falls into the “his” category of responsibility.
I don’t dress like Frank Sinatra any day of the week and I’m the polar opposite on Saturday. This is the day that society has deemed acceptable for a person to wear worn out, discolored, wrinkled, outdated or just plain ugly clothing. At least it used to be. Come to think of it, I guess I’m probably the only one at the gym with holes in my clothes nowadays… Whenever they changed this code they didn’t inform me of it.
I went straight home from the gym, got my wife’s much past due for an oil change car and took it to the “lame lube”. (We don’t pull out into the desert to change oil anymore, I did get that memo) They were even slower and more inept that day than usual. I didn’t have time to let them try to figure out how to reset the oil life percentage read out. My youngest daughter was at home waiting to be taken to her orientation at the library where she has volunteered to work on the weekends.
She is definitely a “chip off the old block.” She loves books even more than I did when I was young. There is a possibility that she has read more books in her life than I have in mine. At any rate, we only had time for her to hop in the car and head straight to the library.
She was a little apprehensive about walking into the library by herself. She wanted me to walk her in. This, a job that she volunteered for without my wife or me coercing her into. I didn’t even know they had such positions. I thought you had to be middle aged, wear glasses, wear your hair in a bun and have strong lungs to be able to say, “Shhhhhhhh”!
What do I know? I know enough to know that she needed to walk in alone and learn to be independent. “Please go in with me”! She pleaded. I responded, “Do you really want me to walk you in with holes in my shirt”? A perfect prop for the occasion. She started again, “I think y-“-RIP!!! I cut her off. Mid sentence I reached over to my left shoulder and enlarged the size of the hole in my shirt… to ensure independence. “Okay, Dad.” She smiled as if to say, “That was a good one, Dad.” I finished with, “I’ll wait out her for a few minutes in case they need me and my ripped up clothes to sign anything.”
She walked briskly with intention in her steps, I know because I followed her at a distance. The library is adjacent to the mall and sometimes has some suspicious looking characters hanging around. You know, people with holes in their clothes and the like…
With one hour to kill, I stepped through the parking garage to the mall. I can count on one hand the times I’ve been to the mall by myself in the last two decades. I can count, on the other hand, the times I’ve been with my wife in that same time period.
To my surprise, I was the only one walking through the mall with a sweatshirt on that had noticeable sweat discoloration and holes. Doesn’t anyone else wear their old favorites that should have been thrown away years ago except me?
While discovering a $9.99 baggy shorts sale rack, I got a text from my daughter. It read, “It’s getting ready to start, I think it’s going to be really good”! – “I don’t need you to come in.” I texted back, “Good job girl, I knew you could do it”!
Off in the distance, in my minds eye, I see and taste that bitter-sweet day of my little girls independence…
This worn out sweatshirt soaks up the tears quite well.
I think I’ll keep it for a while…..
Monday, August 30, 2010 @ 9:14 pm
Floyd, I loved this essay. I’m reading a book called “Free Range Kids” right now that is all about giving kids the freedom we had as children instead of being overprotective, “helicopter” parents. You were wise to nudge her into that independence. It gave her more of a sense of accomplishment.
As for the clothes issue, I guess that’s a man thing. I’m usually too vain to venture out in public in my work clothes and without makeup, but I confess I’ve gone a few times to Home Depot covered in garden dirt, desperately hoping I wouldn’t run into any students or parents I knew. Men have more self confidence than women about being seen in holey, stained clothes.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010 @ 5:08 am
Floyd,
that was so good,I really enjoyed reading it! It was so you! there isn’t very much people like you
Around any more. your old sweat shirts don’t bother me .to me its good to see some one like you
Down to earth and real . and what you did with your daughter was the right thing! she made it
I think she is lucky to have a dad like you down to earth
patty
Friday, September 3, 2010 @ 11:19 am
So.. I have a couple things to say. 1. You liked to read when you were younger?!
2. Floyd and the word mall dont belong in the same sentence and 3. Seeing you in anything else but your old gym clothes is crazy!
Monday, September 6, 2010 @ 11:46 pm
my question, on top of laub’s is… you own regular clothes besides your gym clothes? I thought you only had one other outfit, and that is the one you wore to the banquets..
Tuesday, September 7, 2010 @ 9:40 am
Laub and Mel couldn’t have said it better!! I miss seeing that sweatshirt! On another note, I loved this story because it demonstrates how you have already impacted your daughter by guiding her to the beginning of her independence!
Gosh, I miss your motivational speeches!! I LOVE reading these in school before class starts…thank you for sharing these stories.
Thursday, September 16, 2010 @ 10:59 am
I have an old grey Gotcha shirt that I’ve had for years, after wearing it to a few places I probably should’nt have, my wife threatened to throw it away! I convinced her it was still a good work shirt, and still get away with wearing it on occasion. Congrats to Gurm on one of many life lessons yet to come…..via the school of Floyd. Reminds me of a few lessons I learned there! Well done, keep them coming. I can always use a little more education. I have a few kids of my own that need it.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011 @ 11:33 am
I just discovered this blog today and I can’t stop reading. But as I read this story in particular I got the chills. You are an amazing writer in my all but professional opinion. As I read through your stories I am emotionally drawn in, as though I am reliving parts of my own life. The messages that you are conveying are hitting home with me, and are exactly what I need to hear at this very moment. In my experience with prayer and meditation God communicates His message through others, to me. Today I believe you have delivered His message. Thank you!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011 @ 7:28 pm
Wow, those are very kind and encouraging words. We all share similar stories in our lives, I always enjoy the writing that I can relate or picture in my mind easily. I’m honored that God spoke to you through these simple words, but I like you, have come to understand that is the way God works sometimes. Thanks so much for dropping in and leaving a message. I’m encouraged by you to keep on doing what I feel called to do. Thanks again and God bless.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011 @ 2:25 pm
Oh, Floyd, how sweet! I loved this story, and I was able to take a mental photograph of you watching your daughter from a distance, granting her the independence she needs, but not giving up your role of protector and father–hole-y sweatshirt and all! 😉
Tuesday, March 29, 2011 @ 2:38 pm
Thanks Jennifer, It seems like only a couple of years ago I was carrying them in my arms. Now our oldest getting ready to graduate from college. I was reading in Psalm this morning where David referred to this life as a breath. The older I get the more I realize the wisdom in those words. Thanks for your post today and bringing me to a place of contemplation, sweet memories are a gift from God. Thanks again.