Out With The Old And In With The New


Dear Pink Bathrobe:

We’ve been through a lot you and I. I can’t remember the day you came home with me because it was so, so long ago but I do remember spotting you on the rack. You were hot pink with a bunny on the back. I didn’t love the bunny but you had so many other things going for you that I was willing to overlook this flaw. You fit me perfectly and were oh so soft. Your hot pinkness was fabulous. It put a smile on my face. It made me happy.

I knew you would come home with me that day I found you but I didn’t know that you would be with me for so long. You were with me throughout law school, keeping me warm during the long months of non stop studying. You were there when I got married and went with me on our honeymoon to Hawaii. You moved to California with me and and you were there when I studied for and took the bar exam. You were there when I got my first job. You came with me at the hospital when Little Man was born and laid silently at the foot of my bed ready to take your usual place, wrapped snuggly around my arms and you were ready to stretch and make room for Little Man, keeping us both warm. You were there when we moved to the Bayou. You were there when cancer entered into my life. You were the one thing I never went to the hospital without. You were the first thing I reached for when I willed myself out of the hospital bed to go to the bathroom or to take a lap around the hospital floor. Everyone in the hospital knew it was me coming down the hall because I was their only patient with a hot pink bathrobe. Here she comes in her pink bathrobe! My doctor said once. You look great today, keep up the good work! Thanks, I said. But I don’t feel very hoppy today. I knew that bunny on the back of you would come in handy sometime.

Life has changed a lot, as you know and recently, I’ve had a hard time feeling comfortable in you. Sometimes it seems like you’re too small and other times it seems like you’re too big. I keep twisting your waist tie and it takes me forever to make it right. It’s really starting to get on my nerves. You’re not as warm and soft as you used to be. Sometimes I look at you and all I can think of is cancer and wearing you around the hospital. I spent so many hours in bed staring at my toes and your ever presence reminds me of those days.

Today, I brought home a new bathrobe. She’s purple chenille with purple satin accents. She’s warm, soft, fluffy and fits me like a glove. She’s right for me now. We don’t have any history together. I know you secretly snickered when, as I stood in front of the mirror admiring my new bathrobe Little Man said, Mommy, you look like a hippopotamus!

I know it was hard when I folded you up and placed you in the give-away pile, it was really hard for me too. But, it’s time for you to find a new home. You will make a new friend and you will go on new adventures. I am certain that you will make someone else very hoppy and warm. Thanks for being such a good friend.

Auf Wiedersehen,