This old shirt….
It’s thinning with age. The threads are unraveling. There are holes from wear and tears. It’s faded.
I love this shirt. I wear it often, usually just around the house or to bed. It’s comfortable. Broke-in.
This old shirt used to be my Daddy’s. I’m not sure how I ended up with it. Probably borrowed it from my mother, my mother who rarely throws anything out (must be where I get it). It’s been long since my father has worn this tank. When he did, the colors were vibrant, the stitching in place. It was his “muscle shirt.” It would show off his chiseled arms and slender waist. I can also remember days he wore it after that slim torso began to fill out a bit…
It’s funny the details that stick with you from childhood. Somewhere in a photo album I am sure we have a photo of him in this same shirt.
But now I wear it. Now it covers my growing belly. I wonder if this shirt will last to be worn by a third generation. If not, I’ll have these images that capture its fabric over my babe in utero. And I’ll be reminded of the sentiment of this old shirt.
Hope you enjoy these, Daddy.