I've been staring at it for weeks, even daring to open it on a few occasions. Is it time to sort it out ? Jane isn't coming back so why is this going to be so hard... because its the last physical thing I have left to remind me of her. All her clothes hang there quietly expecting her return, each one with a different memory of a place, a holiday, a special occasion when it was worn last.
I start on the smaller items. Underwear, tops, trousers and shorts are all pulled out, neatly folded and placed in pile on the bed. Even these have their history as it was hard to stop the tears. Then the shoes. Unlike a lot of women, Jane wasn't that big on shoes. As long as they were comfy and slightly stylish that was enough and she just stuck to a couple of pairs thank goodness so it wasn't long before these were bagged up. I kept her favourite slippers, they are stopping with me.
I look at the bags filled with Janes' clothes and instantly feel as if I am betraying her in some way. Throwing all her things away as if she never existed... God, why is this so hard. I'm joined by Catherine who choses a couple of her moms' tops for herself which cheers me up.
I look at the gaps on the shelves caused by my activities and that horrible sence of loss descends again. I fill the gaps with bed linen and feel a bit better. I look at the larger items hanging in a neat line and decide to call it a day. Enough was enough they can stay there until I'm ready.
I took the bags to the local St Marys Hospice Charity shop, nodded at the lady, dropped the bags and scuttled out not daring to look back.