Way back when, I can remember The Old Man wearing a gray sweatshirt when he felt a cold coming on. The Old Man was rarely sick, but when he was, The Old Man would get it, he would get it bad. He would throw on his old gray sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. More important was the shirt. The sweatshirt was old with holes in it. The fabric was worn and the neck was frayed. Mom wanted to get rid of the shirt but The Old Man wouldn’t let her.
This was The Old Man’s sick shirt. It was comfortable for him. And when the fever set in and when the congestion took over, the shivers, the aches and Continue reading