A daughter, her mother, and an old green sweatshirt

By Navya Shukla

A daughter, her mother, and an old green sweatshirt

by third year Audrey Hamm

I throw on the vintage green sweatshirt that’s been passed down to me with my mom’s college name and logo on the front. There’s a hole in one of the sleeve cuffs; the edges are slightly worn, it’s in good condition yet I still feel its age. Her dad bought it for her on a campus tour the summer before her senior year in high school.

I wrap my arms together, bracing against the windy February morning. The school she went to was in a small town (and town is probably a stretch) in Pennsylvania. Those Februarys, she likely trudged through the dim winter, maybe even snow, and this sweatshirt wasn’t nearly enough to keep her warm.

Nineties college fashion was different than today: girls took extra time in the morning to do their hair, I imagine going through bottles of hair spray more quickly than girls do today. You’d never catch her or any of her friends in dark-wash jeans; light-wash only, with big cozy sweaters and clunky clogs.

She started to love science, even though she hated it in high school– just like me. My family and I still poke fun at her when she starts going all “science nerd” on us. Truth is, it’s one of my favorite things about her.

What a leap of faith, rediscovering something in a new way that piques your interest, and truly going for it.

Choosing to study journalism didn’t necessarily feel like the perfect thing for me to do, but what I love is being able to hear peoples’ stories. One day, I hope to make jokes about AP style with the same geeky joy as my mom. 

I wonder about all the stories she hasn’t told me yet. She had such great friends that she still keeps up with today. She always laughs so much when she talks to me about them, and I see the strong bond they have in the way she always cherishes her time with them.

No matter how much she loved college, I know there were times she missed home; cozied up on the couch waiting for her brother to get home for school, waiting to see how her parents were warming up to the stray cat she had made them keep.

Just like I cozy up on our couch when I’m home, watching the clock for when my siblings will get home, passing the time with our black lab.

I hope she sees herself in me, because I see myself in her all the time. In my love for coffee, in my love for school, in my love for a good hair day, in my love for good friends, in my love for that cozy sweatshirt.