Dedicated to my mom and the man she loved, Wes, who left us 12/31/2011.
"Old guy's rule" is what it read
He loved that shirt, faded and worn
The collar tattered, almost thread bare
Mom looked for that shirt, his favorite to wear
Only 10 days I was there to help
Did I? Did I help at all?
Only a little time to straighten things out
And the shirt, did it go to the homeless shelter
With all the other clothes?
Mom wanted to find it
She took me back to the place
Where youngest sister and I donated his things
The man said, go and look, in trailer over there
And we walked in the dusty dirt
The desert around us there
I opened and looked there were not many bags
But the ones we had used were weak and tore
I was not feeling well, sick the entire trip
I climbed in, pulled a bag to my mother
Leaned forward to grope through more
Mom said, "these are not his clothes,"
I gave her another bag look
It was a black T-shirt that she sought
"What size are those Jeans?"
"What black shirt is that?"
"Could Tommy wear those new underwear?"
"Mom," I said, "You can't take all this stuff back with you."
I was exasperated, nose running, and not having any luck finding her prize
I heard her sigh
"That's enough," she said. "I'll take this shirt and these jeans. Let's go."
"No, mom. We're not done looking," suddenly feeling guilty.
"Its alright. I just take this. Let's go," she said as she turned to walk away.
I backed out of the trailer, my hand dropping to my side as I felt something slip
I looked down into the dusty dirt as my wedding band fell into a puff of fine sand.
"It finally fell off my finger for the first time," I thought to myself,
"I knew it would eventually with all the weight I've lost."
I bent down and picked it up, dusted it, put it back on,
locked the trailer door, walked with mom.
"So, what's that shop over there with the mattress in the back?"
"It's not a thrift store," she said. "Let's if we can find someone to groom the dog."
Later, little sis said, "I'll buy mom a new one of those shirts, they sell them all over the place. She does not need one worn and tattered and faded. I'll get one she can wear."
Tonight I had the thought, "it's the shirt that he wore. The one he wore is the one she wanted. That makes at least 2 things I wish I would have taken care of on this trip. I wish I would have found that shirt, and I wish I would have rubbed her feet.
Hind sight is 20/20... why is life like that? ... sigh
It's for her... not for me that I'm thinking...
..and for, well, I guess me too... maybe this thought will help avoid even one little regret.