Mondays are just young Fridays

My jean jacket was taken from my car a few weeks back. Stolen.
The car was parked in its usual secure underground spot, and I may have accidently left the doors unlocked, but you would like to think you can trust your neighbours.
I also know, in the past, there have been incidents where random people off the street have managed to find their way inside our condo parking.
It’s sad, but unexpectedly expected.
The jacket will be missed. It already is.
It was a great jacket for cooler summer evenings, or an extra layer of warmth during the spring and fall. It was well worn, and well loved.
The thing about a jean jacket is that it takes time for it to be fully broken in, to fade to that right shade of indigo blue, and become that kind of soft. After all those years you discover more character in its somewhat threadbare looks.
This jean jacket was perfect in so many ways. It had inner pockets that could hold a journal, book of poetry, or even an extra camera lens (or sandwich) for when I would go out for a full-day adventure and wanted to pack lightly.
This jacket was washed and worn, and loved.
Of course, I was angry when I realized it was missing.
When the anger subsided, I realized it was only a jacket. It can be replaced.
When the stores are open again, and when I feel it is safe to go shopping, I will buy a new one.
Some people are not afforded that luxury.
This is now about forgiveness.
I hope my jacket was able to provide what was needed, and that it will be appreciated as much as I appreciated it.
I’d like to think the person who took the jacket needed the warmth and comfort.

05/18/2020                                                  j.g.l.

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