Retailers put a price on clothes. A pair of slacks for $60. A pair of jeans $50. A T-shirt $15. The funny thing is, despite the price tag, the item of clothing is priceless. It has a perceived value as far as dollars go to the store selling it, but once you get it home and wear it, it has value far beyond the bar code.
*Life, love, and laughter - what priceless gifts to give our children*
When the tag is cut off, the shopping bags are thrown away. The real value sets in. A shirt worn on a family vacation, a pair of jeans worn on the tractor, A shirt worn on the last Christmas together, a sport coat worn on the last living weekend, a shirt that was worn on the last night on this earth. All of these items are items I remember my Daddy wearing. All the items have sentimental value beyond any price tag in the world.
*Our clothes are too much a part of us for most of us ever to be entirely indifferent to their condition: it is as though the fabric were indeed a natural extension of the body, or even of the soul. ~Quentin Bell*
They say you don't need alot of stuff, it's not like you can take it with you when you die. When someone dies, they don't need the things they've acquired over the years, but the people left behind do. Memories are what keep someone with you, memories keep you sane, memories are what remind you of what you had. Memories come in all sorts of packages, memories cling to all sorts of things.
*Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.*
After my dad died, I couldn't for see getting rid of his clothes. I just wanted to grab all the hangers off the rack and hug them all closely. I know there are needy people out there and that we should donate them, but in my mind, no one is worthy of wearing his clothes. My sister and I decided to pull all the pieces that had meaning to us and that memories were attached to. They are being made into a quilt. A quilt that I can look at and remember when he wore that shirt, jacket, or jeans. A quilt that will be a walk down memory lane. A quilt that brings my past to my future, to my future children so they can have a piece of their grandfather they won't get to know, but would have spoiled them rotten and adored them if he were alive.
*Blankets wrap you in warmth, Quilts wrap you in love*
Quilts are meant to bring warmth, but this quilt will not only bring warmth, it will bring comfort on the sad days, it will bring security on the hard days, and it will bring love to my soul every single day. On the days I miss my Daddy the most I can wrap it around me and feel his hug.
Shit....I have a headache now from all the crying....
I am not going to lie, I get enjoyment when I hear of others peeing in their pants from laughing. I have been reading Chelsea Handler's new book, Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang and in the parts where she talks about having to hold herself while walking to the pier for "Dudley's" fake funeral, it really makes me nearly pee my pants. This reminds me of last summer's beach trip with my boyfriends friends, when I peed my pants while playing putt putt. And as Paul Harvey says...."The rest of the story"... After devouring the all you can eat seafood buffet, we hit Mutiny Bay to play a little putt putt. After one round, decide what the heck, lets do the other course. This course was an obstacle course, 
you spin the wheel and it tells you funny stuff to do. After we had been at it awhile, I get to one that tells me I have 10 seconds from the time I hit the ball to get it in the hole. I mean business....I take off my flip flops as I don't want that to hinder my quest. I whack the ball and start running to see where it stops.....it doesn't stop...I hit it so hard that it bounces off the designated "green" and hits the sidewalk and heads for the fence. It rolls past the chain link fence, which wouldn't have been so bad had it not been straight off a 20 ft wall and falls into the parking lot. I start laughing, and I hear Beth laughing and say I am going to pee. That's all it took. I am laughing so hard and dancing around and there it goes...I start peeing and the laughing won't let me stop...the shut off valve didn't work....so there I am a 27 year old with a big wet spot on my bright blue shorts and under me a puddle.... 
Did I tell you this is my first beach trip with these folks...I am quite embarrassed as I have to finish the putt putt course with pee pants. I am now 28 and still pee in my pants a little if I laugh to hard....I think its genetics. I really do appreciate hearing that other people have weak bladders when laughter is involved...so for that, Chelsea Handler...I am thankful for your stories and ability to pee in your pants when something funny happens. See photo to the left....that's from the putt putt place of incident...can you see why I peed in my pants...laughing, plus waterfall....
