Treasures

30 Days of Cory- #4


Cory's special hat is kept under my pillow every night.  If I miss her too much in the night, I pull it out and sleep with it clutched to my chest.  On particularly bad days, I wear it.  Most often, I wear it when I'm home alone- those weekend days and nights when Jake might be at a friend's and Tim is working.  The house is silent, and unbearably empty.  Craving Cory, I seek it out from its safe place, and fumble it onto my head.


Cory's hat is special for two reasons.  First, it was her comfort object given to her from a comforting person, her papa.  And secondly, it was the last intact belonging of hers that was returned to me.  My hope, and my desire was that once back in my hands, I could breathe deep of that knit hat, and smell my Cory Girl.  I remember being absolutely furious and heartbroken to discover it only smelled like the road...asphalt and tires...and when I shook the police packaging, a little drift of grit fell out.  Put those few grains of dirt together with "she was knocked out of her shoes" and you may never sleep well again.  That is truth.


No matter, I took my treasure and crawled away.  What I've found over the time since that day is that it stopped mattering if the hat smelled like Cory.  When I put it on, I could remember seeing her wearing it.  When I held it to my chest or turned it over in my hands, it was tangible proof that I had had an absolutely amazing child and friend.  The hat had been worn on her head-her precious, brave head.  She had walked around with it on, when she was alive...when she talked and smiled and cried and ate.  When I could touch her and hear her voice and laugh every single day.  It blows my mind that I was ever so lucky to house such a beautiful bird in my arms.