The Leather Jacket

How many times did my dad ask me "Why didn't you ever wear that leather jacket?"

Throughout my life I have been prone to ridiculous purchases. The black hat I had to have in 7th grade that my parents bought me at Cordova. The Nike tennis shoes I had to have before I started 1st grade. And the leather jacket.

I was in 8th grade, and the big ticket item every girl at my school had on their Christmas list was a brown leather jacket. With cotton sleeves and a map of the world on the interior lining. Well, it was on my list as well.

I wasn't the coolest person in junior high. I was new to the school and extremely shy, so I didn't have many friends for a while. My first day at the new school (7th grade), we were all in our first period which was homeroom. It was time to assign lockers, and everyone had their person they wanted to share with for the year. And since no one knew me I was saddled up with a girl who was not the coolest person. I know that might sound mean, but everyone remembers junior high and how quickly you get labeled and then picked on. So, in my adolescent brain I was branded.

Well, my parents got me and Amanda leather jackets for Christmas. Amanda got the one I had envisioned at first, but my parents knew I liked a little flair and they found this other style. It was very cute. It had a lapel and real leather cuffs with snaps. Well, I wore it to school the first day back...and everyone had their leather jackets on. I liked mine because it was different. That was until I saw who had one just like mine. My old 7th grade locker mate. So I got picked on. People telling me we were twinkies. So, I never wore it again.

It always bothered my dad. And it always came up in conversation...even years later. "Sweetie, we spent a lot of money on that coat and you never wore it." I never told my dad the reason. Embarrassed by how ridiculous it would sound.

The last long phone conversation I had with my dad was about a week and a half before he passed away. I was out on the deck talking to him while Solon took a nap. We spent the better part of 20 minutes discussing the plumbing in my house and why a pipe was knocking whenever we flushed the toilet. We were getting off the phone..exchanging "I love yous" and he said "Oh, MM...wait...before we get off the phone...purple high heels????" He was referring to the heels I bought a few weeks back with the birthday money he sent me. I know what he meant. And I quickly told him.."Daddy! I am going to wear them! I promise." I did wear them the following weekend when we went to Oxford. I wore them out on the Square. I was a giant..and my feet killed me! But I wore them. He never knew.

I have spent the past couple of weeks thinking about my dad and how he knew me inside and out. He knew I would never change. That I would spend $100 on a pair of purple heels. And quite possibly never wear them.

My dad will be gone a month tomorrow. I really miss him.