Out of the Closet

If you look too long into the mirror of the past, I heard the public radio commentator say, You'll fall in and drown.

I considered this. It sounded right. Cleaning out a closet can not be done with mercy or faintheartedness, there's too much debris to sort through in the search for what you salvage and what you discard. I looked resentfully at my "keep" and "give away" piles and then with grim determination at the box I'd mentally labeled "maybe". Taking a deep breath, I dumped the contents onto the "give away" pile and resolutely turned my back on it. A grey cashmere sweater tumbled into my hands along with a gold trimmed black purse and a pair of 3" black evening shoes. My hands almost shook as I put them in the "give away" pile. It's been five years since you wore or carried these, I said outloud, let them go. A pair of jeans that had fit at one time but that in my heart I knew never would again...a skirt I could no longer zip ....a pair of sandals that always put my right foot to sleep ...a sweater that had never looked quite right....a dozen or so t shirts, some faded, some stained but all with some kind of foolish meaning for me. I examined each one before tossing it aside. Move on, I kept repeating under my breath, keep only what you need to move on.
There's a fine line between remembering the past and getting stuck in it. Yet at the same time, you have to keep your dreams and your hopes intact.

More clothes, shoes, purses, pillows and assorted things that I hadn't wanted to deal with at the time. Soon I was on the floor buried in remnants of what felt like past lives. The dress I was married in, the pullover sweatshirt that had belonged to Ran, old photo albums, yellowed with age and made fragile by time but still with the power to make me smile. Greeting cards I'd never sent by the boxfuls and needlework pieces I'd never get to. A couple of the cats made their way through the maze of stacks and piles and sat down, looking at me with "You can't take it with you" faces.

Well, I told them as I went back to the job at hand, We'll always have Paris.