And I was always special enough to wear Papaw's hat...whichever one it was that year. I'd run around the house in it and hide my toys in it. Ilayed with the jingle bell on the end and played with any ribbons or strings attached to it. Of course in order to wear it I had to behave, Papaw said. I didn't care. I was so proud that I was the one out of seven grandkids that got to wear the hat.
When Papaw got sick he got a new Santa Hat with an adjustable band on the back and a fluffy white collar around the front. He was the one to wear it that Christmas, although he did offer to me at the end of the day....since we both had bald heads. He told me to hold onto it for now.
He died shortly after the New Year. I keep his Santa Hat in my Christmas box, so that every year when I pull out the decorations, I pull it out too. I haven't worn it since he died, but just know it's still in the box makes me feel a little better at Christmas time. I know I should pass it on for someone else to enjoy, but I guess I'm too selfish to part with it and miss seeing it every year.
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