Just one shirt...

... so many memories

A plumbing situation forced a closet clean-out that had been on my to-do list for over two years.

Yes, procrastination is one of my superpowers.

Photo by Nimble Made on Unsplash

A few months after Tom died in 2022, I tried to go through his things. I gave away his suits, and an old ski jacket. It was a half-hearted attempt, a good start but never quite finished. I’ll get to that, I told myself.

I’m stunned by how much was still here and how much I’ve been holding onto. I’d thought I’d done a better job of letting things go.

But all those shirts and sweaters and shoes. Belts, jeans, sweatshirts and tennis shorts. Ties and pocket squares. [We don’t see a lot of ties and pocket squares here on the regular; this is more of a polo shirt and shorts coastal vibe.]

Most of the sweaters had been dry cleaned in Dallas, and still have the cleaning tag attached. Only a few were ever worn here. That’s right, since 2017.

His dress shirts are beautiful; he had exquisite taste.

I hold them to my face and inhale. Again and again. One at a time, and then add them to the “donate” pile.

Today, I knew it was time. Today.

The birds were here this morning, and reminded me of that scripture about the birds of the air, They neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns…

So. Today.

And I’m okay. Tom would smile and ask what took so long.

And he wouldn’t say anything about that one white linen shirt, the one he loved wearing in Key West and Mexico, the one that was just always so casually fabulous and handsome. He’d be okay that I’m keeping just that one.

I hold it to my face, dry my eyes with it.

And exhale.