Yesterday, I was walking knee deep in snow and realized surprisingly my feet were still warm, cocooned in Deneice’s socks. I started to think about the idea of comfort, of the things we routinely tuck ourselves into as an act of protection. I realized that my day-to-day armor when I’m home have all been given (or borrowed and then kept lovingly) by other people. Maybe my favorite article of clothing ever is my father’s sweatshirt from the 80s, Kona Surf printed on the front, the black fabric worn thin from maybe a couple thousand or so nights snuggled in bed.

There’s the other special pieces I wear daily too: the floral lounge pants from Nicole, the red beanie from Ryan, the softest black long sleeve pull-over or those warm, blue socks from Deneice, and my Mom’s gold bracelet she received on her sweet sixteen that I’ve not removed from my left wrist in at least two years.

I keep all these things close and the people even closer, because that’s what you do with love.

m