I had looked forward to the day, had hoped, had waited with great anticipation and not a little patience. And, lo and behold, the day has arrived! I can see my clothes.
You have to understand that I have been using cardboard movers’ wardrobes as my closet, with a small rack in our upstairs bathroom, behind the door fronted, I might say, by the cat litter box. Not the ideal environs for things I would like to wear and have people’s sense of smell exposed to. And, did I mention the cat likes to jump on top of the cardboard box? To her it is a perch. So, you see the cave-in, while my clothes were still resident. I tried to make the best of it, but, the 17 months since we moved into the river house were even a little harder than the six years of waiting for a house, because having a real closet seemed possible, and even probable.
But, now, thanks to my talented and hard-working hubby, I have a real closet. And, it isn’t just real, it’s a big, walk-in, with shelves and rods and light, and no trace of cardboard.
You may not have ever had your clothes in cardboard, or stored in storage for six years, or had a year and a half in a hotel, where your wardrobe is whatever you could fit in a couple of suitcases for the airplane. I have.
I do think of all of the peoples of the world who may only have one garment to wear–and not the wildness of so many things to wear as I have. And, I am grateful. I will never take this privilege for granted. And, some of the benefits of seeing my clothes, are that, now, I can quickly realize I do not need another pair of black trousers, or another black sweater; and, I can, now, quickly separate out the things I want to give away–things I have not worn for six years, but are sitll in good condition. Things, with my weight loss, that I am not likely to wear again. And. just things I don’t want or need that someone with less can appreciate.
Life is good.