Love, Relatively Speaking
Faye Brandon
March 7, 2016
I am well aware of different kinds
of love, and that they all relate to human beings and not to inanimate objects.
However, there are things to which
we become attached, and the bond is very strong.
We say we love them, knowing full
well that’s not the correct word to define our feeling; but we don’t know what
word to use, for nothing fits.
I have this old, faded, pink velour
robe. It's been my companion during
flu, pneumonia, grief, shingles, and many other maladies. It's been washed, bleached, and dried many,
many times—yet, it comes out sweet smelling, fluffy, soft, and warm, ready to
put right back on each time.
There’s no denying the pure comfort
and soothing satisfaction from donning this article of clothing.
It’s been “there” for me during my
worst days, has eased my pain, and soothed my fevered brow.
I have attempted to replace that
robe several times. However, absolutely
nothing else will suffice.
What on earth will I do when it's “done-in?”
I couldn’t bear to cremate it, and
there's no place I could put it if I have it bronzed.
