That one Jacket that will Always be there

Hidden in the back of the closet is a New York Yankees jacket whose meaning, though known to only few, is bigger than one can imagine.

If you were to step over the mountains of shoes, push aside the heaps of clothing in my wrecked closet, you would never guess that there would be anything of value hiding back there — let alone anything priceless. But, tangled in the mess of my Pacsun sweaters and Converse sneakers is a faded 50-year-old navy blue and khaki New York Yankees jacket. It’s about seven sizes too big and the Cooperstown Baseball patches are just about falling off of the sleeves, but it’s perfect to me.

My grandpa used to watch Yankee games with me and helped mold me into the sports fan that I am today. After he passed, my grandma decided to give my sister and I some of his things. She gave me the jacket to remember him by. It’s funny because I can only faintly remember him wearing it — I only see him in his flannels and his beat-up tool belt, but every time I put it on I flash back and I can see him standing tall in that faded oversized bomber jacket. Now, years later, it helps having a little piece of him to hide away in every once in a while.

The sleeves are twice the size of my arms and the bottom of the jacket hits the back of my knees but I still find myself trying it on every now and again to see if I’ve grown past five-foot-one. I’ve contemplated giving it to my dad a few times but something always stops me. I’ve grown up a Yankee fan and I know that that jacket has grown with me. Even if it doesn’t fit, it’s just always there — a constant reminder that my grandpa is too.

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