A 'New' Old Hat

Years before I was born, on a cross country move from New York, my father picked up a simple, chocolate-brown Stetson somewhere in Utah. This hat has lasted ages, resisted the destruction of moths and  rough-about children alike. It has kept him warm, been the envy of old-timers at burger joints, become last minute costumes at Halloween, and is without question, the only topper I see when I think of my dad. It fits him perfectly. A few weeks ago I found this hat in a vintage shop and I had to have it. It isn't a Stetson, in fact it's a 1980's Banana Republic hat, but the deep brown color and soft felt remind me of his own. The man helping me was a hat aficionado, and he wiggled it around on my head, commenting on the size and fit. Yes, it is a little large, but I find it endearing. It makes me feel like a kid again, trying to fit into my father's hat. Isn't it funny how nostalgia works?