Two or three months ago, my Dad shipped some of my Mom's clothing out to me. A few key things. When they arrived, I didn't have the energy or strength to deal with the clothing. Nor did I have any idea what to do with these clothes to properly honor them, and her.
Finally, last week, I took the clothes out of the bag, unfolded them slowly and laid them on the bed. I ran my hand over these shirts and jackets. I buried my face in her sweater and smelled her. Her mix of "Mom" and floral lotions that she always, always wore. Mom didn't wear much make-up but she always had some great smelling lotions.
Some of the pockets still had wadded up tissues in them, reducing me to a puddle of tears. Those tissues touched her face, sat warm in her hand. There were 2 Werther's butterscotch candies. I didn't even know she liked butterscotch.
This blue sweater blazer was something she wore when she wanted to dress it up a bit. It made her eyes look even bluer than they were. I bought it for her at JCPenney's on one of her visits to CA. I'm going to have this made into something for the next baby we have. I don't know what yet, but something. Maybe a little sweater or wrap.
Mom had millions of white zip up sweater/sweatshirt/jackets. This was one of them. I liked the collar of this one. I think she felt a little more stylish in this one. I hope I told her that she looked a little more stylish in this one. I probably did. When I have the courage, I'm going to wear it myself. And probably never wash it so it never loses her smell.
This shirt was my favorite of hers. Quintessential "Mom". These little red flowers and it's lightweight fabric. She wore it fairly often in the spring and summer. With her capri denim pants. She didn't choose reds often when she shopped but for some reason, she was drawn to this shirt. I was with her when she bought this as well. Mom and I shopped a lot together. Mom and I did a lot of things together. This shirt is going to end up being the backing of a frame, I think. I don't know yet. For now, it's in an airtight bag, in a special drawer. So I can pull it out and look at the little red flowers.
Sometimes clothes are just things. And sometimes they are so much more.