14 February 2012
51 years old
There was a time when she wore the purple jumper outside of the house and into the wider world, but like an infirm relative, it was now confined to the indoors. The purple jumper was worn and stretched, it had some loose threads, but coming home and putting it on, whilst discarding the neat, pressed garments that belonged to the outside, made her instantly feel relaxed. She took it on vacation, even on short overnight stays, so that every place, no matter how far away, could be home. She’d had it longer than she’d had her daughter – it was that old.
One evening at home, when something good was about to start on television and the summer’s day temperature had dropped, she sought the purple jumper. She would sit on the couch with her husband and daughter and forget the world beyond their walls.
‘Has anyone seen my jumper?’ she asked, and before either husband or daughter could answer, ‘Where have I put it?’ She looked in the usual places, by her bed, in the bathroom, even on the back porch. Panic rose in her voice, ‘I can’t find it.’ It was then she heard her daughter giggling. Coming into the living room she saw her husband, wearing the purple jumper and sitting on the couch – in her spot. The jumper was too small for him and rode up high above his trim belly, 80s style. She gasped, then laughed, then sat down and belly laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Husband and daughter joined in. ‘Look at your mother,’ he said. ‘I can still make her laugh.’
He can indeed. He is my purple jumper, he is home, he is comfort, he is love. Happy Valentine's Day Craig. I didn’t buy you a card. I hope this story will do.
Image from: http://tutorials-share.com/2012/02/valentines-day-photoshop-tutorials/ Thank you!