Earlier this evening, after a brief yet brave struggle with my expanding gut-line, my favourite shirt passed away. We had been together for many years and I had been mostly faithful throughout that time, with only a brief flirtation with a cotton T-shirt and, during one very cold winter, a thermal vest marring our close relationship. While I had grown - mostly outwards - during our time together, my shirt hadn't and it was, perhaps, this shortcoming in it that was ultimately responsible for its sudden parting. When I think of the good times we had together - the meals and drinks we've shared - I'm at a loss; words simply cannot express how I feel about this tragedy. My wife introduced us, I think it may have been Christmas '03, maybe '02 and it was love at first sight. After that first meeting we were inseparable and spent most of our weekends together.
I'm pretty inconsolable just now but a friend of mine, who recently lost his own favourite shirt under similar circumstances, has given me a glimmer of hope. He told me that his own shirt was mysteriously and miraculously reincarnated three days after its demise as a cushion cover. I'm not religious but, still, I'd like to believe such things are possible.
