It wasn't much to look at. I suppose when it was new it was a decent looking coat.
But it was olive green.
And oh so worn.
When I saw it on a stranger, my heart stopped.
My heart stopped because once upon a time my dad had a coat just like it And it was my security blanket. How many times did he carry me in his arms, with my little face burrowed into the olive green faux fur collar. It was soft and warm and snuggly. It smelled just right--like security should smell, as if it has a smell we could all identify. Chances are we would all have our own definition of that one.
But for me, on all those nights when I got the chance to burrow into that coat, I knew I was safe, secure and loved.
PS--I searched high and low to find a picture of this coat. This outward symbol of safety and security from my childhood. But no, while the internet is a great world and offers so many pictures of things long forgotten, I was unable to find a picture of my coat. Crazy isn't it? That the old green coat that meant so much to me, that even as an adult made me stop in my tracks and try not to stare at a strange gentlemen, and that picture doesn't seen to exist.
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