The Sweater

I put away some sweaters today, and brought out some spring clothes. And I made a decision.

I’ve decided to part with a sweater I haven’t worn in at least ten years. The thought crossed my mind that maybe it’s not time to say goodbye yet, since I took twelve photos of the sweater from various angles. I learned this trick from a professional organizer I met with years ago (I won a consultation in a raffle.). She said, don’t keep everything you feel sentimental about…take photos of things and then pitch ’em!

Am I really doing this? Yes. It’s a huge ass sweater. Time to lighten the load a bit. I know you are on the edge of your seat, wondering why I have kept this sweater for so long. First, here’s the sweater.

The sweater

I don’t even remember where I bought the sweater. It was definitely during college, circa 1995. This sweater went to England with me when I studied in Leeds my senior year. And I wore the thing every single day of my post-semester-abroad-whirlwind European tour.

My friend Ellen, who studied abroad with me, and I started out a few days before Christmas 1996. Little did we know that we would be traveling during one of the coldest winters Europe had ever seen. We didn’t bring our coats. Why didn’t we bring our coats???

So when I think of this sweater, I think of the entire trip. I think of being blessed by the Pope in Rome on Christmas Day. I think of freezing on a Greek island, and spending hours in front of a fireplace watching American movies with Greek subtitles. I think of calling my other friend Daisy, who was meeting us in Milan, to tell her that we were stuck on the island an extra day because the boat wasn’t running the day we were planning to leave. I think of us in Florence, eating gelato for every meal. I think of us walking on a beach in Nice. I think of us in Barcelona, shopping for pottery. I think of us in Paris, our last destination. We were completely delirious at that point, and went to six museums in two days or something insane like that. I think of the “Indian scarf”…a scarf we found in a dirty puddle on the street. And it smelled like Indian food. And I was so cold I snapped it up and wrapped that dirty smelly thing around my head! I kept the scarf for years, as well. I haven’t seen in it a couple of years, so I guess I lost it. Sad.

Dear, dear sweater. Thanks for the memories.

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