Cleaning out the closet

Last weekend my father and I did one of the hardest things ever in my life. Finally after two years of avoiding the process, we cleaned out my mother's closet. "It's just things!" people will tell you, but they are wrong. It's the memories too. As a daughter, you went on a lot of those shopping trips. You remember making the trip to the store, trying on those clothes and the excitement of bringing them home. There were so many times, too, that my mom would then make me sit on her bed, while she matched up her new items to things she already had. There was always a fashion show involved. So, it's not just things!

Cleaning out a loved one's closet, like I said, is hard. It used to be my escape. When I felt sad about her death or felt like I needed her around, I would go in there and touch her things. They smelled like her. I would spray a bit of her perfume and close my eyes. I would actually hug her bathrobe and imagine her arms around me. Crazy, it may seem, but if you've lost a loved one...you know. Now, that escape is changing. We didn't get rid of it all simply because there were just some things that I wasn't ready to let go of. I didn't want to do something I would later regret.

It was also sad to see the progression of her being sick, going through papers and receipts. Her writing showed signs of her getting weaker and weaker. My God! How did she get through all of that? She was so frail; her poor hands!

I wish I could say that I feel stronger and made progress doing this hard task this week. But that would be a lie. There was a reason we kept putting this off. Of course, let's go see a movie instead! Sure, why not, let's just go away for the weekend. It will still be there, untouched, when I get back. We were all guilty of avoiding this. But the way I've felt this week, it feels like more like a step back, than forward. I'm sensitive, achy and questioning a lot of things. Would my mom want me to feel this way? No! She would probably wave her finger at me and say, "Don't Fret!" I just sit and think of how lucky I am to have had a mother with whom I had a relationship worth getting sad over.