THE COAT

My goodness, why though?

Why do we like to hold on to things even well past their sell-by dates?

Or is it just me?

This is rather strange because when it comes to food, if anything is within two or even three days of its sell-by date (note I said sell-by date, not even expiry date), I do not touch it. I am that girl you will see at the supermarket always reaching for the bread, milk or veggies that are at the back of the shelf! What’s worse, even my mother will tell you that if a box of milk is due to expire say on the 10^th of June, should the digital clock on my nightstand hit 00:01 on the morning of the 10^th, I would not hesitate to throw my blankets aside, march to the fridge and throw out that box of milk out before someone decides to have cereal the next morning.

Why then is it that in some instances (maybe one in particular) have I not extended the same risk rating that I have given to expired milk to some situations (or one situation in particular)?

It all started with a coat, not just any coat – a coat that had great value.  Here I use the past tense because I no longer have the coat; I had to let the coat go. Wherever it is, I hope that it’s in good hands; it’s safe, clean and happy. I gifted myself with the coat on one of my travels and soon thereafter I happened to forget it (well to tell you the truth I am not sure whether I forgot it, whether I deliberately left it or whether I had assumed that I would be reunited with it on my next trip to the place where I had left it). However for now let’s agree to say I forgot it.

With every passing winter, it became clearer that I would never see the coat again, but I refused to accept that! All my friends knew about the coat and its whereabouts, shucks if it was possible, they would have probably made posters and called the missing coat hotline just to shut me up! But being the good friends that they are, on one of our weekend getaways to a location that will remain undisclosed in order to protect the identity of the individual who has custody of my coat, they offered to escort me to rescue my beloved coat. Needless to say, we went, we saw, we even took selfies against the beautiful ocean background…but I can’t say we conquered.

As I enter the fourth winter without said coat, I have now been forced to read the writing on the milk bottle: LET THE COAT GO. I must say though, with a great deal of bravado that I am quite happy and ready to let it go. Its time, in fact, the coat situation is waaaay past its expiry date. If the coat were not an inanimate object I’m sure it would write me a note, something along the lines of: HI NYIKO, I KNOW YOU REALLY LIKED ME BECAUSE I HAD A CERTAIN JE NE SAIS QUOI. I KNOW YOU DID NOT MEAN TO FORGET ME IN THAT DARK CLOSET, IT’S OK. GO ON, GO ON,  I KNOW THAT THERE ARE MANY OTHER COATS THAT WOULD SUIT YOU JUST AS WELL, IF NOT BETTER, XOXO THE COAT.

Now that I think about it, if I go all “Dr Phil meets Oprah” on myself it’s highly likely that the coat was a metaphor, it represented something beyond a mere garment. There came a time where, I decided, with the help of time of course, that this garment situation was well past its expiry date. Holding on to the coat would be tantamount to keeping an expired box of milk in the fridge until it turns into Inkomazi (sour cream). Now that’s not a good look, not at all. So coat, in response to your kind note, here’s my reply: HI COAT, BE GOOD, XOXO.