Out Of The Closet

When you live in Chicago, you do not tend to make picnic plans for Memorial Day. It is usually cold and / or rainy. Nine times out of ten. That is why I usually plan to clean my closet on Memorial Day, because, when you live in Chicago, this is about the time you can kind of, maybe think about putting away the winter clothes for the summer, save a sweater or two you might need for a night the wind is blowing in at Wrigley Field. So, today finds me cleaning my closet as is my Memorial Day tradition, except it has not really been done for a few years. I have EVERY season of clothes jammed in that space, not to mention items that no longer fit, and things that were out of style three years ago when I last seriously attacked the closet. It never got done while Lou was sick. Alot of things didn't get done while Lou was sick. The important things , for the most part, got done. Like spending time together. Listening to music. Eating gelato. Watching Law and Order and Frasier re-runs. Doctor appointments, monthly MRIs, prescriptions, and all that. Everything else....slid by the wayside. Closets in particular. I'm trying to be ruthless this time around. But it's hard. I keep hearing Lou's voice, saying things like : " I always liked you in that " (no matter how out of style it may be, if he liked it, he liked it), or " that's a great color for you " (he was better at that then I am), or "gee, you look pretty in that". And then, there are all the lovely things he bought me over the years. I have not been able to bring myself to part with any of them, even though some no longer fit, and many of them truly are out of style. This one he gave me for Christmas, that one for my birthday. This is the one I wore on Mother's Day, this one to a black tie affair. This one we slow danced in. This one I wore for dinners with his clients. Sigh. It's hard to be ruthless about memories. The good ones. The dress I wore to his memorial...shoved back deep into the corner. Maybe I'll even get rid of it. But some of the others...they hang there, reminding me of that life that seems so long ago now. I haven't even TOUCHED Lou's closet yet. I wonder when I will. I wonder when I will feel strong enough to do that. There's a comfort in having his closet full, full of his clothes that still smell like his cologne. I can't get rid of these things of mine, how will I get rid of HIS?? My breaktime is almost over. The closet calls. Ruthless, I must be ruthless. They are things, afterall, just things. Things that once were bright . Things that were bought with love. Things that made Lou smile . Things that made me feel special. Things that painted a memory. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing.