All in the Details

Interesting what our little minds hold on to as meaningful. There's a shirt I sleep in sometimes. It's a men's long-sleeve cotton t-shirt...orange with a wide, blue stripe down each arm and one across the chest. For as long as I live, I shall refuse to put this shirt into the yard sale box because of it's incredibly significance. This is the shirt the husband wore the night I first noticed him, on the night he dropped his beer at the Joyce and I looked up from my spot at the pool table and there he was...puddle of beer at his feet, hands still in front of him in the shape of the glass, and making eye contact with me, eyebrows high on his forehead as if to say, "Ummm, did I do that...?"

That was the night I stopped letting anyone but the future-husband have a bite from my candy necklace. Ha! Believe it or not, I'm being literal about the candy necklace and not attempting some perverse metaphor. Really!

Anyway, back to the orange shirt. Could it be that within this seemingly minor detail lies the root of our love? Would I have even noticed him in the way that I did had he been wearing, say, the green version of the very same shirt? Well, probably, since it was actually the charming way he recovered from the spilled beer moment and how he managed to end the evening with me chasing him into the parking lot for the goodbye candy necklace bite that truly reeled me in to his life forever. And it's all of those things I think of when the minor-detail-orange-shirt works its way to the top of the comfy clothes drawer.