"When I wear my red skirt ...I write my favourite things on trees."

“When I wear my red skirt …I write my favourite things on trees.”

Everyone handles grief differently. When my mother died, putting me – her only child – in charge of dispatching her belongings, I was ruthless. All her clothes went into that big black garbage bag destined for charity. Including the red skirt.

She had worn the red skirt often. It was made of a soft tee-shirt material that defied  time and machine washing. She gardened in it, napped in it, lounged and went to the store in it. Between washings, it was liberally sprinkled with Paddy fur from her huge Maine Coon cat.

The red skirt is not to be confused with Star Trek’s red shirt, the downfall of a myriad of uniformed extras. The red skirt was life, not death. A splash of color on a rainy Portland day. Encouragement for the old of body but not of soul.

“When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple red!”

It has been thirteen years, but I haven’t forgotten that magical red skirt.

I want it back.

I want the red skirt back.




About Mollie Hunt

I am the crazy cat lady, animal shelter volunteer, Trekkie, and mystery writer. I live in the rainy Pacific Northwest and will watch any TV show or movie filmed here. Even though I am of a goodly age (sixty-something) I go to Star Trek conventions in costume and am not afraid to be by myself. I enjoy my life in the cat lane. Words to live by: Spay and neuter; Live long and prosper; Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.
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