You see this shirt, I just pegged out on the line to dry? I graduated from Sheffield University wearing that shirt, back in 1995. My girlfriend was there. We’ve been married for almost 23 years. My parents were there, and hers too. We went for a meal at a pizzeria on West Street. We graduated alongside a good many friends, who are still friends, who will see this post on Facebook.
And I still wear that shirt. It is a little threadbare at the collar and cuffs. And the other day, a button frayed loose: it is sitting on my desk; I really ought to ask Jo to sew it back on (that’s not sexist, by the way; that’s dyspraxic fingers speaking). But we’re not done yet.
The apostle Paul wrote, “above all, clothe yourselves with love...” Love, of course, is storied. And clothes are, sometimes, books, journals, albums. That item, belonging to a loved one, you hold on to; or pass on, with love, so that the story might continue, taking on a life of its own.
Clothe yourselves with love, with all its running repairs. x
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