There will come a time when you think to yourself: This may be the last coat I ever buy. And it is not because you’re retiring to Florida. It’s because you realize you are getting old. Old enough, in fact, that even an inexpensive coat could very likely outlive you.
This is not meant to be depressing so much as sentimental and perhaps melancholy. I like coats. I probably have at least a dozen. There are a couple favorites I wear in regular rotation. Some of the others, though, only escape their coat hanger once a year or so. So at some point in the future, I will no doubt have to recognize that a year could mean a lifetime, literally.
By comparison, last home — that’s an easy one to accept. Last car is sort of a relief. But then you get into momentous things like last time seeing a good friend, last trip abroad, last time voting in a presidential election, last time hearing the new music of a favorite artist, last time attending a ballgame and smelling freshly cut grass. Last time chewing bubblegum …
When does it end? Oh yeah, last breath. Yipes, it’s getting chilly in here. Think I’ll put on my new coat.