The monster in the hamper

When I packed up my apartment at the end of June, I had a hamper full of dirty laundry. Most of it required special care – hand wash, hang to dry – and I didn’t have time for that, so I just brought it with me to Arizona. And there it sat, in the corner of my bedroom here, untouched for three months.

In preparation for moving back to California, today I decided to tackle the laundry hamper. Under the blouses and stockings, I found the silk shirt Mike wore for our wedding. I guess I knew it was there; it didn’t unsettle me to see it. I just set it aside and went on sorting. But down at the bottom of the hamper, I got a surprise.

Three more of Mike’s shirts, the bright colored cotton tunics that were his trademark for so many years. I held them to my face. After more than seven months in the laundry hamper, they retained no trace of his scent. After clutching them to me for a long moment, I dropped them into the appropriate pile.

I washed his shirts in Woolite on the delicate cycle with a load of my own laundry. I hung everything in the bathroom to dry. I was doing fine.

A couple of hours later I walked into the bathroom, saw his shirts hanging from the shower rod, and lost it. Blindsided by the grief monster, I sat down on the bathroom floor and sobbed.

I wish those damn shirts would hurry up and dry, so I can pack them away.


~ by hourbeforedawn on September 30, 2010.

2 Responses to “The monster in the hamper”

  1. oh love. i’m so sorry. hugging you from here.

  2. that must be so damn hard đŸ˜¦ there are no words. hang on lira!

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