Talisman

The gold sparkly sock is still in my drawer, though I did get rid of its mate with the hole in it. She gave me the socks as a Christmas gift on her last night in Vancouver before returning home to Melbourne. It was one of those gifts that makes you feel guilty because you have nothing to offer in return, though I knew she didn’t care. We had a long, tight hug when we said goodbye and exchanged “I love you”s. I wore the socks through the winter and even spring, then the following autumn, right after she told me about her cancer and I was about to embark on treatment for my own. But the hole started to appear along with winter, and I had to send her a sad picture of my toe poking out of the glittery gold sock – ‘sad face emoji’, I said. When I visited her in Melbourne the following spring, my treatment complete, hers in a manageable phase, we shopped in the boutiques and I found some new sparkle socks, these ones in blue. “To replace the ones you gave me!” I said as I brought them to the counter to purchase. Two years later, those too had holes. And she was gone. The holey sparkle socks are still in my drawer, and though I’ve considered finding someone to darn them, I know I won’t. I will just keep them there until enough time has passed that I am ready to say goodbye.