Healing in the Swoosh
This is my son. The boy who will only wear clothes with the Nike swoosh. It is maddening, really. I scour Marshalls, TJ Maxx, and Nordstrom's Rack looking for reduced Nike pants, shorts, and shirts. He will occassionally wear Under Armor, but only if he really loves the shirt. I've tried everything but it just ends in massive tears and tantrums and I've learned as a mother of 3, some battles aren't worth fighting. I've chalked this swoosh obsession up to his need for independence, his own way to express himself, maybe a way to insert himself into the world. Being a third child comes with some issues, I suppose!
However, on Easter morning, I found out the true nature of this obsession. The Easter Bunny placed a Nike hat in his basket and Oliver was more excited about the hat than the candy. He immediately put it on and exclaimed, "Mummy, it's just like Andrew's. Y'know the one he left in your car." And that is when the light bulb burned bright. I spend alot of time writing about my brother at my other blog. My brother took his own life in October and it devastated all five of us. We are slowly learning to live without him, but we've all found some way to honor, remember, and cherish him in our lives. My five year old son honors him in this Nike obsession. I've said before here, that at times, fashion seems so trivial, so small in the grand scheme of things, but my son reminded me that it can indeed be so much more.