A few years ago, my husband purchased a new suit in preparation for the upcoming wedding of a dear friend’s daughter. He is not a man who has had to wear a suit often, these days, who is? He has only ever had one at a time.
Last week as we got dressed for another close friend’s father’s funeral, I heard the rustling of the dry cleaning bag being removed from his three-piece Michael Strahan Brand ensemble (it all comes back to football in our household). It had been bought for one of the most joyous occasions we can experience in life, on this day it was being worn for the saddest. It is a perfect representation of our existence, the highest of highs and the very lowest of lows. It made me a little sad.
As we drove to he church, the suit’s equivalent in its role as witness to these monumental events, I turned my thoughts to my friend, wondering how she was holding up on the morning of her dad’s burial. I could not wait to hug her. I realized then that in both cases, the suit, now in the driver’s seat next to me, is called upon for the same reason: to support someone we care about in their celebrations, whether it be the beginning of a marriage or the end of a life here on earth. Not a bad gig for some fabric, buttons and thread.
#sisterrain #alittlesightalotofheart #legallyblindwriter #michaelstrahanbrand #michaelstrahan #wellsuited
