Bag 10

My tenth bag has one item only in it.  A brown leather coat.  A bomber jacket.

Bought for my Boy when he was in high school, it went away to college with him.  When it found its way back to my home...many things had changed.

The first time that coat hung in my hall closet, I was married to my son's father, living the dream.  So I thought.  But soon after that coat arrived, our lives begin to unravel rapidly and soon all that was left was a bitter sense of loss, wounded hearts and a lost, broken family.

My Boy took the coat and went to college.  He dropped out of college.  He worked.  He didn't work.  There were whole months at a time that I didn't hear from him. 

In the meantime, life went on.  I healed.  I grew.  I changed.  I met a man...a Rocket Man and dared give love another chance.  We married and began a life together.

My Boy wandered in and out of our life.  A phone call.  A trip home.  And one day, a call asking if he could come home for Thanksgiving.  Would I send a bus ticket?  Would I?  Of course I would!  My Boy was coming home.

And while he was home, we talked and he made plans to come home and stay awhile. He didn't have anywhere else to go.  He went back to quit his job, gather his things and within a week he was back to stay.  On a bus.  With one box of belongings.  That coat was among his things.  It was hanging in my hall closet once again.

He lived at home for just over a year, and traveled a deep and sorrowful road with us. My Boy helped his sister through unbelievable tragedy.  He was a rock to my grandsons in a time of death and grieving, when they were too young to understand.

Over the months, my Boy and my Rocket Man forged a friendship that warmed my heart.  How delightful to see them watching sports together and enjoying an easy camaraderie.

He went with a friend to talk to the Air Force recruiter.  They signed up.  Although his actual entry into the Air Force was delayed by the events of 9/11 (all flights were cancelled and his boot camp was rescheduled) he eventually was sworn in and went to boot camp.

The coat stayed in my closet.

My Rocket Man began wearing the coat.  When the Boy came home after boot camp and his technical training, he came home with a wife.  And he graciously gave the coat to my Rocket Man, who has worn it gratefully over the past decade. 

Until last week.  When Rocket Man brought it home and showed me a rip in the coat.  One I can't repair.  We have no idea where or when the rip occurred, but he won't be wearing it to work any more.  In fact, he won't be wearing it anywhere.  It is going, in its bag, to the box at the Church House for coat collection for the homeless.  While Rocket Man can't wear it to work, a homeless person might could still find warmth in the coat.

That coat has kept two of my dearest loves warm and cozy.  It may be the only coat that was still hanging in my closet that hung in the closet of my other life so long ago.  In fact, I'm sure it was.  It spanned my worlds and now it is leaving my world forever.

There are other things that have spanned those worlds.  I brought some baggage with me, tucked deep in my heart when I married my Rocket Man.  The heart I gave to him was tender and scarred.  I was wise to trust him with it.  He has cared for it well, and while the scars remain, it has healed from the inside out. Much of the baggage has been discarded.  I found I didn't need it on the journey.

And the coat?  It has served us well.  Spanning decades and worlds, it has been a good coat.  As I drop it off in the collection box, I will pray a that God will bless the next wearer of the coat richly and wrap that person in His love and care.