Amazing how one’s thoughts can reverse themselves, and how quickly. Before Ricki died, but knowing it would be soon — I was determined to rid everything that would feed my sorrow. The first morning alone, opening our closet — there — next to my jeans hung Ricki’s dresses. Just how could I “get rid” of them? Many of them bought to please me.
I lived with her dresses next to my trousers for as long as I could. I mean — starting the day lost in sadness, even before making breakfast for one — that had to change.
Good Will! That’s the answer. My emotions were being torn apart as I took my wife’s clothing off their hook and put them as gently as I could saying tearful good bye, into black plastic bags.
A young man met me with his wheel barrow (well that’s what it was to me — you know “perception is reality”). We met at the trunk of “our” car — now “my car.” We made the transition and he start to give me a receipt which I rejected. As he was about to head back, I panicked. He stopped and turn to look at me in confusion. I told him my problem. I asked if this clothing might be sent to another Good Will store for the thought of seeing another woman wearing a dress of Ricki —— I was having difficulty breathing — the young man, with visible compassion assured that another store, in a different part to the state would be thrilled to “help us out.”
Pain comes in many ways — especially the unthought ones. The closet is craving new clothes to protect.