Today we went through my Mother’s closet.
1303 days ago my mother left us. No matter how I try to phrase that it never sounds right. She surely didn’t WANT to leave us; it certainly wasn’t deliberate – her family was everything to her – but leave us she did. She was as complex a woman as I will ever meet. I couldn’t even begin to describe her here and I won’t even try.
Until now we haven’t disturbed her things. Some thought this was odd – an avoidance, if you will; but we saw no need. Until now – nothing earth shattering – no one particularly needing the space her clothes took up – it was more an organizing exercise than anything else.
My sister Kate showed up and we started with my Father’s closet. He was there to supervise and we had a fine afternoon of pulling out old suits from the 70’s and having the boys try them on for laughs. We culled out the suits that were beyond repair and put them in one pile while the rest were deemed worthy to live on in someone (a tad svelter) else’s closet.
Nicki showed up just as we were moving on to our Mother’s things. Hangers and hangers of beautiful jackets, slacks and shirts. I never consciously noted that she always had a pin on her lapel but as we pulled out blazer after blazer – each one has a small, gold, circular pin on her lapel. Each one so familiar.
We pulled out Argentine shawls, mother of the bride dresses – each one made by her favorite dressmaker, Inge. Chambray, linen, silk – an entire wardrobe of textures – all in her favorite cool shades of blues, greens and greys.
She had a tendency to buy her clothes a size too large – either for comfort or for the notion she took up more space in the world than was totally accurate.
When we finished with her closet we moved on to her dresser drawers. Layers of sheer cotton voile, lace and ribbon. Here. This is where I find myself. Where I find my mother.
I find the photograph so beautiful and moving. It captures for me the dream like quality of a spirit that has passed, a gentle and feminine soul – I hope you don’t mind me saying.
Thank you for all the smiles and memories. =)
The one with the pink ribbon, I wore it to bed last night and felt very grown up.
Your post is so moving and makes me thankful that my dear mother is still with me. I cannot imagine how hard it was to take care of your mother’s things.
That was really sweet.
I wore the pretty blue one and felt close to her. I’m glad we waited.
This is such a sweet story.
Simply beautiful.
Thank you for sharing about your mother with us.
xo,
Kim
Nice banner!!!
What a wonderful post! I miss my Mother so deeply. You touched me with your words.
What pretty things! Love the new banner too!
I was just stopping by…not even sure how I found you, but tomorrow I will be taking a long car trip to my Mom’s house to help her take care of my Dad’s things. It will be 2 years the first of next month that he has been gone. It is just like you said…not for any reason…not that she needs the space, but she is just ready. I thought I was too, but as I sit here tonight and reading your post, I am not sure that I am. There seems to be something so final in it all and I am not ready for final. Thank you for this post…I am now hoping to find my Dad there in his pile of cotton shirts and soft wool sweaters.
Cathy
I’m so touched by what you wrote – especially about the part of leaving her family, not wanting to leave, and her family being everything to her…I barely understood that when my mother left us very prematurely 21 years ago, but now as a mother, I thing I understand it a little better. My mother’s birthday just passed – Oct 24th – and every year that she isn’t here to celebrate her birthday, I think my understanding of motherhood deepens a little more. How fitting for me to read this at the time of my mother’s birthday..
When I think back at my mother’s wardrobe, I also remember her nightgowns the best – perhaps because she always was a comforting constant for us in the evening and in the morning…until the day she suddenly left us.
Thank you so much for composing such a beautiful post,
Beata
Thank you for this memoir. My mother is still with me at a spry age of 91. She loves frilly nightgowns and sumptious robes. And those are the clothes that define my mother also.
So lovely, Andrea. Your mother is with you still.