Boxes to bins
Is this what is left of you? Your things just packed in boxes, as if they will be unpacked and put away in a closet to be worn, or used? I am supposed to open up these boxes and do something with your things...but I wont do anything with them. Instead, I will neatly fold each and every one of your shirts, taking care to button each button, and smooth the collar as I go. One particular shirt still has the sleeves rolled, just like you wore it last. Your things have been in boxes for almost 7 months, but yet I can still smell you. I can smell a faint scent of that cologne you would wear that I so loved to smell when I kissed your neck. I pulled out the zip up jacket that you wore for most of your Dr. appointments and Chemo infusions. You were so thin, and it fit you and didn't make you look as frail as you were underneath. Neat folded piles....that is what is left. Decisions on what to do with them someday. Will your dad want your suits? Will the boys want some of your shirts? Neatly