I came home this morning wearing a dead man’s jacket.
Can’t get over how strange it feels, to wear the garments of the deceased. I didn’t know the guy. I know of him, but I never met him. But there’s an echo of him somehow in his jacket.
I stayed over with a friend last night. We had a seven hour conversation about everything and nothing and watched a bit of DVD. Nothing special. She got cold and so did I – she has a big yet cold house and even for summer, it was freezing. She got a jacket and I joked, asked her if she had one for me. She brought out his jacket. “Try this one on, it was my ex’s.”
“Oh, Gary?”
“No, James.”
I’m normally not lost for words, but I was then. I don’t know anything about him, mainly because she doesn’t talk about him. I know James was her fiance. Died in a car crash. She can never say that, though. She can’t use the word “James” and “dead” in the same sentence. I only found out what happened when she wrote the word in her mobile and showed me. She just can’t even vocalize still what happened to him. It hurts her too much.
I don’t ask for details. I give her sympathy and understanding, that’s all, when she talks about James. Rare as it is.
So, who is this dead man whose jacket I am still wearing? I’m still wearing it as I type this. I went to take it off, it’s not exactly cool in my house, but stopped myself. It feels strange but it also feels good – like I’m learning or feeling something of my friend’s dead fiance. James.
I guess he was interested in surfing, because it’s a Rip Curl hoodie. It figures, she’s an actual surfie, not just one of the type that wears the clothes. Maybe they surfed somewhere down south together. I don’t know what he looks like, I’ve never seen his picture, I imagine him to be rugged and athletic. While my friend isn’t superficial to rate someone purely on appearance, I know what she likes. She’s not easily impressed by men. He must have really been something special. And he loved her. So very much. And she loved him.
And now he’s gone.
All that remains of him, to her, are their shared memories, as painful as they might be for her sometimes and this jacket. This jacket that I’m wearing right now.
The jacket of a dead man. James. My friend’s beloved.
I will see my friend on Saturday when she comes around again. I plan to keep really good care of this jacket. Even when she gave it to me, I could barely sputter words – that she would offer his jacket for me to keep warm. The last thing she has of him. Letting me take it home. I took it as an honour of the highest degree and an unbelievable measure of trust. She trusts me anyway, but this just reinforces that. I will not let her down. I’m going to treat it like a baby. Since she’ll never have James’s baby now. I wonder if he can see me, from the great beyond and sees me type this. I wonder if he approves of me as her friend. I hope so.
Rest in peace, James. I never knew you, I never will know you, all I have done is wear your jacket but I feel closer to you for it.
Damian, 6 months ago
What a feeling to have, and quite an unusual scenario. An interesting way to learn more about someone special.
ainhoa aparici..., 6 months ago
moving, very.
MelanieSpeaks, 6 months ago
This is great….very well written
Cailean, 6 months ago
She’s taken the jacket back now. I’ve talked it over with some people here and I agree that it was a big measure of trust, but she’s like that – she doesn’t stand on ceremony. She just DOES, without any pretention. It’s a simple and beautiful way to be, I think.
I still think of him, even though the jacket is gone. I guess this story/whatever will remain as a legacy. With me forever.
Thank you for your comments. As you have been moved, so was I moved to write it. I am glad I could share my emotion and feeling and experience with all who have read this.
aysiawolf, 6 months ago
Im sure he approves very much, of you..
really moving
Cailean, 5 months ago
She was over again today – saw Bella with her. She doesn’t know that this piece exists. I’ve sent it out into the wonderscape of the internet and I wonder if it’ll cycle back around to her and she’ll realize that the nameless friend is actually her.
I haven’t talked to her how moving I found wearing the jacket. How it affected me. Maybe it’s a matter that I had to write it, not that she has to read it.
And I guess, Cathy – she approves of me. She’s a very good friend and we look out for each other. I reckon anyone who loves her can see that I love her too.
TangerineMeg, 5 months ago
Simply putting words to a real thing/feeling, heartfelt.
butchart, 3 months ago
i’m so glad i read this first, when i came to your page…. it gives me an insight into the beautiful person you must be…...... what a wonderful sharing of some personal moments… and what a lovely tribute James, your friend and you….......................peace and light…............................b
Cailean in reply to butchart’s comment, 3 months ago
Well, what can I say but thank you, B – it’s very sweet of you to say that I am a beautiful person. And my writing is all about sharing and connecting with other people, it’s why I write. I have decided in my mind that I won’t get rich writing – but if I wrote to get rich, it would change the nature of my writing.
It is these moments, like the ones I recount in Dead Man’s Jacket, that I live for – no amount of money can buy them. What has bought them has been care and love, understanding, connection and time invested into making connections and friendships. These cannot be bought and they are worth far more than any amount of money.
butchart, 3 months ago
i believe in what you say…. i write from the same place….... maybe that’s why yours touches me so…...............b
Sarai, 2 months ago
I lost my youngest brother, age 28, two years ago. Letting go of his personal possessions is still the hardest thing for our family to do. He was the baby. Your friend must really regard you in high esteem to entrust such a valued treasure to you. Keep it safe.
S
Cailean in reply to Sarai’s comment, 2 months ago
Well, I didn’t keep it, I gave it back, but even a temporary loan of it for a practical purpose was something. My condolences on the loss of your brother, too. I haven’t lost close family since I am an only child so there haven’t been many people possible to be lost, but I feel for you.
Sarai, about 1 month ago
Thank you.
S