An old t-shirt

Old childhood friends are like rock 'n roll t-shirts. The vivid memory is cemented in time by the shirt.  The drinking, the debauchery, the borderline illegal activities will always be remembered but the show had to end. The memories cannot be forgotten. The t-shirt is the only thing I have left to remember the craziness. My wife convinced me to throw some of them away. There are still a few lingering around in my closet.

This week, an old t-shirt re-emerged from one of the drawers. I love this t-shirt. I love him like a brother.

He called on Tuesday afternoon. He hasn't called me in five years. Things must be bad. The only thing that came to mind was that he needed money.  He told me he and his wife were unemployed. He wanted to meet for coffee the following morning.

Wednesday morning, he told me he's broke. He has fallen on tough times. Christmas is here. He doesn't know how to support his family. He can't pay the rent. His support network is thinning. He can't get a job.

I'm not throwing him out. I love him. His heart is made of solid gold. He's like his dad that way.

This t-shirt has always been one step away from ruin. It seemed everything he did was the opposite of what I would do. It might have been the alcohol or the drugs. Or it may have been his poor choice in women. About two years ago, he started getting his life together. He left his troubled girlfriend. He met a new girl and he fell in love again. Not hard for him. The kid always wore his heart on his sleeve. Although I don't know her, the new girl seems nice.

I trust the t-shirt. He's not a thief. He doesn't have a plan to pay it back. There's no income. I offered other potential solutions which may not work for him. But that's his decision. If I don't hear from him, I hope he solves his problem.

He'll always be one of my favourite t-shirts. He doesn't fit me any more. I've grown and he's still the same old party shirt.

I'm not throwing him out, but I'm not wearing him either.