I was running late this morning (shocker). While scrambling into the white tee shirt (that was laying on top of my still packed bag) I reached out blindly into the skirt section of my closet (hard to believe that I have any type of section in my closet isn’t it). I digress. I literally had the shirt over my head as I jerked the skirt off the hanger. When I finished shimming into my shirt I started to step into my skirt.
It was the skirt.
The skirt I wore when I got off the plane the first time I flew to LA after my TN reunion weekend.
2 things hit me at once. The good news-it fit. The bad news-so many memories. Being late (that’s how all this started) I decided to focus on the former and worry about the latter later. I’ve gotten good at that-putting off the bad news until later.
So….focusing on the good news-not only did the skirt fit-IT WAS LOOSE. Instead of sitting at my waist it slipped down and cradled my hips. Sweet.
Sweet until 2 seconds later when I remembered walking down the ramp in LA after flying all day. I remembered that I heard The Plain White T’s sing “Hey There Delilah for the first time. I was standing HERE in my plain white tee wearing the skirt but I felt like I was there-back when I was giddy and giggly and nervous and hopeful-all at the same time. Suddenly I was not in my tiny little townhouse. I was at the airport and as I walked my skirt swayed and I hoped I looked pretty. I wanted to be pretty more then at any other time in my life. I bought the skirt because it was pretty. I remember buying it just for this very moment. But I wasn’t there. I was here and not there and I didn’t want to think about then. There was time for that. Later. I channeled my inner Scarlett and thought,”I’ll think about that tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day.”
I made it 10 minutes. And to the car-small success. But then the song started playing. You can just about insert any country music song HEREbecause after my recent 10-hour car ride I am convinced that every song on my phone-all 539 of them-are at some level about love. Falling in love. Falling out of love. Lost love. Drinking to stop thinking about love. First love. Last love. Losing love. The pain associated with losing love. The pain the ex-girlfriend feels at losing love. On and on and on it goes. There isn’t a song specifically about wearing a skirt you wore when your realized you were in love or, surprisingly, about the way it feels to wear that skirt again when you can’t be in love anymore. Not yet anyway.
Who needs music to drive? Music off. Eyes straight ahead. Distract self with a back to school to-do list. Or recite the Gettysburg Address. Backwards. Anything to stop thinking about the first time I wore this damn skirt.
Having been off for a few days I walked back into the middle of my gotta-do list. That worked. In 10 minutes I was more distracted then I could even have hoped for. Problem solved.
Until someone told me I looked pretty. Well hell. I wanted to look pretty the first time I wore it. Looking pretty now seemed pointless. I said thank you. Like my mama says, Manners matter-even when you are sad.
And so went the day. Normal day distractions and then along would come some compliment and SHAZAM I would take a wrong turn on memory lane.
All because of a damn skirt.
The good news is that it fit. The good news is that eventually I’ll wear the memories our if it and it will go back to being just a pretty skirt.