Some days I don’t have the resilience it takes to endure the reckless cruelties a pre-teen dispenses almost without thinking. “You look like a turtle,” she said on our way out the door to cheer practice. I was wearing the green felt beanie I bought at the army surplus store in Pomona, January 2009, to prepare for my first winter retreat with the youth of Claremont Presbyterian Church. It’s not my only winter hat, but it’s the one I’ve worn the longest.
It now litters the parking lot of a Jewel -Osco in Old Irving Park.
Some days I don’t have it.