Somewhere, somehow, I have lost my gray knit hat. In the grand scheme of the universe, this is not so tragic, but in my world, right now, it means a great deal.
We have a connection, this hand knit hat and I. In the two winters we spent together, It protected and inspired me. It’s on my head in my Google account, my WordPress page, half my NYC pictures from last November. I wore it inside and out, day or night, it was so supremely comfortable. Somehow in the course of living, moving, unpacking, it never found a permanent place. Now it has vanished. I am unsure if I left it somewhere or it is just hiding in my house, but I am about out of reasonable places to look.
The hat represents friendship to me, in it’s purest form. It was knit for me by someone I admire and care about. She spent valuable time making something for me and that something was important to me. Now I’ve misplaced it, and though it was not on purposes, I feel like I did not appreciate and take care of what I had been given.
It’s just a hat. I have others, but I feel like I have lost a companion.
I’m sure there is a lesson here, some silly metaphor I can make about objects and appreciation, love and service, sacrifice and commitment and how these things apply beyond something made out of yarn and time.
I don’t care much about that. I just want my hat back.
If you see anyone wearing it, beat them senseless.