the ghosts in the closet

I had good intentions of cleaning and organizing the girls closets in preparation for back to school and the necessary bulk created by cold weather clothing. I had planned to sort through the things that were no longer worn and bag them up for a mass drop off at the local good-will. It seemed like a simple task really. I was not, however, prepared for the onslought of emotions that hit when I started going through Lexi's closets. In the last couple of moves, many of Tatyanna's old clothes had been boxed up and simply put in her little sister closet with the idea that at some point, should she ever decide to grow, Lexi might be able to wear some of the hand-me-downs. Buried at the bottom of drawers or still in the packing boxes, I had completely forgotten that these things existed. It's funny, the degree to which memories can be cued by a simple article of clothing. As I held the assortment of sweaters and dresses in my hands I could clearly see the little girl who used to wear them. The effervesent little person who went through a phase and refused to wear anything but a pink leotard and a "dancing skirt", who was so excited about her 4th birthday that she had to get all dressed up for the occasion. For a moment, I was held entranced by memories that I would give anything to be able to live again. Memories that are now as painful as they are beautiful.

Instead of cleaning and organizing as planned, the clothes went right back in to the boxes. I can be organized another day.