Why I Wear an Army Hoodie

I’m not sure exactly when I stole it. It could’ve been before I left for college in 1996, or when I moved back home from college in 2000 before getting married. It might have been long before any of that. I really don’t remember. All I know is that this is my father’s Army hoodie from his two decades of service and I wear it just about every day.

It’s extremely attractive. Just ask Chuck.

Almost every time I put it on or get a glimpse of those big, black block letters in the mirror, I think of my dad. He and I have always had a really good relationship. (Minus that summer before my junior year of high school. I don’t know what I was thinking.)  When I was little, I’d follow him around always seeking a hug or praise, anything that reflected his approval and affection. It was with him that I’d watch old “Star Trek” episodes or hours (upon hours) of golf. I started gardening with him when I was in middle school and we carpooled to school together throughout high school. I’d tag along on errands or help him in the yard, but it was only  just to be with him.

As I got older and began to read him a little better, I noticed many of my own personality traits were similar to his.  We are known for our occasional impatience, our sometimes coarse humor and our affinity for black and white movies. Since living apart there’ve been many times when Dad and I have sat in the living room together saying very little, and in the end we each consider it a “good visit.”

Something else I stole have of my father’s is his high school class ring. I think I’ve had this since the early 90s when we lived in Atlanta, but it truly could’ve been before then too. It’s been in my jewelry box a long time.

Today is my dad’s 59th birthday and even though I live on the eastern side of the Mississippi River now, we’re still a good 11 hours away from each other. So this is a long-distance birthday wish for you, Dad: May this year bring you closer to home, may it bring you contentment in life, and may it bless you with more laughter than your body can take.

I love you, Dad! See you soon.

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