Roy's Shirt

I had lunch with my friends from college yesterday. Now that I’m 57, I did the math and I guess I’ve known them for almost 40 years. It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that I’ve known anyone for 40 years. How is that possible? Anyway, I love my college friends. They’re like all those friends you grew up with, went to school with. They share a piece of me that is like no other. They share my youth. They share that time - the early 70’s when we were pseudo-hippies, all about peace and freedom and ideals. We’ve gotten together sporadically over the years. During the years when our kids were all little we saw each other less frequently, but lately – the last couple of years – I’ve seen them as much as the previous 20 years combined. The last time we got together for lunch at Barb’s house, Oli and Cathy brought pictures and they had some of ME! At age 18!! I have very few pictures of myself at 18, so I made copies. There’s one I can NOT get out of my mind. It’s Roy’s shirt. I remember now – I took that shirt with me to college and I rarely took it off. I wore it with my jeans. I wore it without my jeans. I wore it to bed. Now, looking through the prism of time, I realize it for what it was. Roy had only been gone for six years when I went away to school. His shirt was still hanging in the closet. I don’t specifically remember when I took it for my own, but I do remember going through my mom’s room once long after he was gone and finding some of his things – his black onyx ring, that shirt. He had only been gone for six years. Back then, that was a third of my life. Now I know how short six years is. But then, it must have felt like he had been gone an eternity. Still, I took his shirt to wrap myself in. The picture is from when my friends threw me in the shower after I told them I had gotten engaged. I wore that shirt more than any other piece of clothing I had in 1971.