The hat

A female friend arrived at the Cathedral on Sunday wearing trilby hat; she looked good and told us when she cleared up her father's possessions after his death his hats were the only things she could not dispose of as he had loved them so much.  My dearest dad used to buy a trilby hat every year for his holiday by the sea.  It cannot be imagined nowadays that comparatively young men with young families felt the need for a new hat to walk by the sea.
One year dad bought a moss green hat which he particularly loved and he rarely took it off.
He used to tell us he had spent the whole of the first World War wearing headgear and boots and until the end of his very long life was hardly ever seen without either.
However, back to the hat story.  On our last morning, all packed up and ready to leave for the train station dad decided to have one last look at the sea but chose to do so as a 15' wave crashed over the sea wall and soaked him. He refused to do anything but rush us all off for our train saying he had been in worse situations on the Somme - so we caught the train home.
Mother fussed over him all the way, sometimes shaking his wet clothes out of the tr4ain window and when we arrived at our home station I was given the task of carrying the precious and soaked hat whilst they carried our cases.  When we arrived safely home mum had the bright idea of turning the cooker on and placing the hat inside to dry out - not a good idea as later when she took it out it had fallen out of shape and into a little hot green pie.  Dad insisted on pulling it on to his head so that it could find it's shape again as it cooled.                                                                                                                      We all sat around
stifling hysterics whilst he lit a cigarette and read his paper, waiting for the miracle to happen.  Later my eldest sister came in from work, greeted us all and looking at dad said  'Are the other Marx brothers coming later?  It seemed like hours before the hilarity settled down.  The hat did not of course ever return to normal and was relegated to a gardening hat and later something that the dog insisted on lying his head on for a good sleep!