Monday, October 7, 2013

Thoughts About My Mom

When my mom died, I went to her closet to see her things because I thought that I could be with her or could feel her with me or something.  I could smell her.  I took her sweater and wore it.  I looked at her clothes and imagined her picking out the items and could understand the reasoning she made to justify the purchase.  Her closet was very neat, with all the shirts hanging together, the pants, a few dresses.  If you didn’t know who owned the items, they could have belonged to anyone of any age.  They were timeless pieces – not old lady clothes.  Her shoes were lined up in a neat row.  There were about 10 pairs of shoes if I recall correctly.  And then I realized that’s when you could tell her age when you looked at her shoes.  With the exception of a pair of Skeechers hiker-type shoes, they were all very sensible with low heels, cushioned insoles and thick straps.  I think looking at the shoes made me the saddest.