When the wildfire that burned our community came on June 28, 2012 as I was packing for us to evacuate I grabbed clothes for hanging out and for business casual thinking we might have business to conduct if the house burned down.

I was careful to pick from my spouses’ favorite clothes. All my favorites were in the dirty clothes freshly deposited there from a recent travel trip. I quickly decided that clean less favorites were better than dirty under the pressure of the moment. I left behind most of my favorite clothes and all of my socks.

We went to the store on the Saturday following the fire that was on Thursday evening. It seemed that I was not the only one without socks. There were literally no socks in the store.

I did find some socks but none were useful. They got eaten by my ill fitting shoes (my good fitting ones burned) or they gabbled around my ankle looking like a 13 year old. Some were so tight in the band that I could not wear then. The sock problem went on for months.

We were in Houston visiting my mother-in-law and I bemoned the loss of my socks and that I had three ill fitting pair so it was like I did not have socks. I certainly did not have any socks that were important to me like the ones in the laundry hamper that burned.

With a look of concern Mom motioned for me to follow her. We went to her bedroom and she took out a pair of yellow Orlon socks that had been my father-in-law’s before he died in 1996.

I was deeply touched at her generosity. I had important socks.