Joe's hat

He was brought up in a time where men wore hats, even to work, even in less respected occupations. Why, me old curling hat, a Dickees hat I bought only because it reminded me of me old Grandpa Joe's work hat, the hat I wear adorned with curling pins, the hat I bought at Pickford Dry Goods in Pickford, Michigan, is the style he wore to work for many years.
Of course, his last work hat was different. It was an abomination of pressed, woven flat plastic, weaved to look impressive. It was what I chose to keep, along with his Rosary, when me Aunt, lookin' over his property, allowed us grandchildren a choice of. She allowed me to keep them both.
To my shame, I cannot find his Rosary, the one adorned with his name from the Rosary Shrine of St. Jude here in Detroit, Michigan. But I have his hat. I wear it just now.
It is dirty, oily, and fits a little tight. And I wear it because, well, I wear it. I think maybe I'll ask to be buried with it. You know, so I can offer it back to Joe when the time comes.