The Old Ugly Brown Coat

It is messy, but so is life

This ugly brown coat is over 16 years old. The elbows are worn thin. The fuzz around the sleeves and hood is not as fluffy as it once was. The zipper is a bit tricky, and the size is a bit bigger than the tag indicates.

The fact is, this coat looks messy and shabby, but it’s mine.

There’s a good reason for it being messy. After all, it has protected me from the elements for longer than most coats even last. It seems nothing is made to last these days. My reliable brown coat keeps on keeping on.

There’s a good reason for it being stretched out of wack, too. Just like a good friend, it has stuck with me through fat and thin, never judging.

When I gained weight from lack of exercise and stress eating — thanks to fibromyalgia and certain unmentionable a-holes — I eventually got to the point where I couldn’t zip it.

I was determined to fit back into my ugly brown coat and my favorite pair of Daisy Dukes. From time to time, I would pull them from the closet and try them on… just to check. For me, having what I call “goal clothes” works better than checking the scales and seeing disappointing numbers.

After hard work and determination, finally, the coat fit! I could zip it and move my arms without worrying it would bust! Later on, I was also able to squeeze into those Daisy Dukes. Mission accomplished!

My ugly brown coat has accompanied me through hell and back.

I had this ugly brown coat on when my family and I were stranded in our Jeep overnight on Interstate 77. The roads were icy and blocked by several stuck tractor-trailers. We waited for over 16 hours for the path to clear. I had my two young sons with me. We prayed we didn’t run out of snacks, gas, and patience. We made it!

I had this coat when I stayed with my brother in the hospital for a week, while he was hooked up to a ventilator and fighting for his life. In the waiting room, I used my coat as a blanket, pillow, and sometimes to prop my feet up to ease my swollen ankles. Unfortunately, he didn’t survive. For a while after, every time I looked at my coat, I thought of him and felt horribly sad.

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