Tale of a Pink Cashmere Sweater
This morning as I pulled on my favorite pair of worn jeans from the closet, I looked for a top that would be perfect for the day. Not too warm, but not too cold. The weather is warming up a bit so I must allow for those heat surges that I get occasionally.
Flipping through the hangers, I discovered my pink cashmere sweater folded over the hanger. Any women would cherish owning anything cashmere, but this sweater was a gift from a co-worker. A women, who was a shrewed business woman disguised as the epitome of a lady in every sense of the word.
Every Christmas we exchanged presents. The pressure to find the perfect gift was overwhelming. She had everything money could buy. Yet, what she lacked in her life was a true sense of family. Her only child died an untimely death. Her second marriage was burdensome at best. Tragedy leaves people hardened, but my friend was not hard at all.
Being an up and coming woman in the company, I choose her as my mentor. Everyday, I spoke to her on the phone, often times, running a concept or idea by her. She never sugar coated anything. If you wanted an opinion that was fair, consistent and unbiased, you went to her.
In the dying days of the company I worked for, she was one of the first to go. Sadly, she left explicit orders that her personal contact information would not be shared. I never spoke to her again after that dismal day.
I think of her often, especially when I pick up the cashmere sweater or refold the magnificent silk scarves in my drawer, or use my navy plaid Burberry tote. It is my hope that when she dusts the Swarovski crystal pieces or wraps the silk wrap around her shoulders, she thinks of me.
As I am wrapped in my pink cashmere sweater, I think warm thoughts of you.
I wish you well, my friend. I wish you well.