When I was a little girl, I believed in magic. I don’t mean a magician’s magic ((although that is awesome)). I’m talking the mystical magic where things happen for unexplained reasons. My mommy had this beautiful fur coat and to me that coat was magic. She would wear it on those bitterly cold days to the bus stop then snuggle up me and Alex underneath close to her so all you saw was a woman with three pairs of legs…what a sight we must have made! I can remember trying to sneak into her room and snuggle with it whenever I felt cold at home…and I get cold a LOT. As time went on the coat seemed to drift further away but always lingered in my memory. Then it was completely forgotten. Was it really the coat that made Mommy’s hugs so full of love and warmth?
Then I was removed from my home for about a month ((thank you government)). Upon seeing my mother’s face, I flew down the halls of the courthouse and into her waiting arms and together we cried and clung to each other, like someone tossed overboard clings to a life preserver, and it dawned on me that it was not the coat at all…it was the love and warmth of her and her alone. My second favorite place in the world ((sorry Mom)) is in her arms ((Will’s come first now)).
I have not thought about that coat in years. I have no idea what ever happened to that coat. I like to think that I outgrew the “magic” of that coat and it passed itself along to another little girl who needed to believe in magic until she herself could understand that the greatest magic of all, is love.