The Comfort of Robes

Jim Olson

10/18/11

Following the passing of my oldest brother who was just a scant seven seasons older than my 50 years at the time, we set upon the task of cleaning out his apartment.  My brother did not have much in the way of worldly possessions and as it went to sentimental items of note, they were fairly non-existent, leaving us only to keep him in our hearts through our memories.

As we worked through his apartment, my sister did something that in hindsight was strangely serendipitous.  She all but insisted I take my brothers bath robe.  She said it was in very good shape and would be a great “hot-tub” robe as it was a plush terry cloth. I was distracted at the time and simply conceded that yes, I would take it home; a guilty thought running through my head that it most likely would go no further in travel than to Goodwill. 

The robe did make it home and I casually threw it in the washing machine.  Upon pulling the load out of the dryer the next morning I decided to try it on, and in a flash, I was rocked by feelings both sentimental and macabre. Like a slap to the forehead, only then did it strike me that my mother had presented to me my father’s robe shortly after he had passed a way just over 13 years previous. As I stood there, I wondered if this was going to become a quirky destiny in my life; if I was to somehow become the keeper of comfort worn.  

My thoughts then turned to father’s robe, which as in all things derived from my parents, was over engineered.  An extremely heavy terry-cloth weave sewn by my mother that may very well last forever, it has provided comfort at a multiple of levels these past years.  Its physical attributes envelop you like a soft cocoon, and that by itself comfortably awakens the fond memories of my father.   Like the robe, my father was strong but gentle, conveying great warmth with his easy and relaxed manner.   Putting on my father’s robe is akin to the soft aroma and soothing nature of warm honey in a hot cup of tea…I never tire of the pleasant memories it triggers.

I won’t look any further past the reason for the presence of these garments.  I will simply share my evening and morning hours taking in the comfort of both robes and I will envelop myself in the memories they provide, kind reminders of the warmth of family.