Old T-shirt

Went through my old stuff. Some will go to Goodwill, some to the Philippines, some I'll keep. There's something about a certain ratty old t-shirt that evokes comfort, familiarity and happy times. Doesn't matter that the seams are coming apart and the color has faded. That old t-shirt is MY shirt.

I was seven years old when my grandparents had to break my heart. They disposed of my old rag doll. They didn't tell me how they did it. They just said it was time to grow up and not have a rag doll anymore. But really, I knew that the main reason was that my rag doll smelled pretty bad(I was totally oblivious of the fact, only everyone said it stank) and that one eye kept falling off. I had that rag doll since my earliest memories. And losing it was among the saddest things in my young life. I have had several dolls since but none I loved as much as my old handmade rag doll.

I was so relieved when I found out that some volleyball girls hang on to their baby blankets even in their teens. I am not completely abnormal! There is strength in numbers. I am not alone!

So I got my ratty old T-shirt. It is going into my closet. Somewhere in the dark recesses of my closet. I may not wear that ratty old T-shirt to an important dinner party, but when I need to feel close to home again, my old t-shirt is the outfit de rigueur.