Jet Li Jacket

It was hot today.  I dressed in my sweater and winter jacket, and had them stuffed in my bag most of the day. So tonight when I got home, I unearthed the Jet Li jacket, which is a lighter weight.

I bought the Jet Li jacket some time after my mom died.  It made me feel like Jet Li, ergo the name. It’s Chinese communist-grade, waterproof, has exposed zippers.  Even as a grieving white girl lugging extra pounds, I felt like Jet Li in it. And that was really good for me. Jet Li (or the characters he often plays) is tough, but kind. He feels the pain, but isn’t going to let it matter. He survives, and Gets It Done. Plus, he kicks ass.

I needed to feel that. I needed that in a garment. The confidence. The Get It Done. Tonight when I put it on, I realized I didn’t need that shell around me any more.  I didn’t need to be Jet Li. That’s how grief goes.  It weighs you down and you keep yourself buoyed up with anything you have to hand. And then somehow you find that you can buoy yourself up. That you can kick ass as yourself.

I might be in the market for another spring jacket. Maybe something in a colour.

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