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Emptying Out the Closet of a Loved One Who Died

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Left to right: Christopher and Nico clowning around



November 20th, 2013


I was on my knees in my wife’s closet, staring at the mess that was laid before me. Clothes upon clothes were hanging on different varieties of hangers. I laughed when I thought about how this space is the United Nations of hangers.

I was finally cleaning out Mimie’s closet after more than a year since her death. I found comfort in her clothes being stored in our bedroom while I was trying to accept the fact that she was gone forever. Maybe the clothes in the closet gave me hope that all this despair was a dream. Well, I have accepted the fact I have to clean the closest. I still don’t think I’ve embraced that she is gone.

Even though no one had opened the closet door and gone inside for some time, the stale air didn’t taint her clothing. All the contents inside the room still smelled like her essence. Every breath of oxygen I inhaled from inside this dark cave smelled fresh and cool. The smells danced off my senses, sending my thoughts into a free-thinking frenzy. She was there inside with me.

The chilled air tickled my senses and brought me to life. The faint perfume she applied over her clothing and skin still lingered about the neatly folded sweaters and tops as if she were sitting there beside me. There are so many memories hanging around me.

There’s her plush pink tracksuit, the one she was on our plane flights. It was fashionable, warm, and very comfortable for our long flights to visit family in Colorado. She would wear it home from the hospital after giving birth to our oldest son, Nico. I push the material up to my face. The cool cotton indents into my face. I close my eyes and envision the last time I saw her in it.

I reach up and grab a sweater from the rack. I smile. She wore the sweater around the house to keep herself warm. I am hot-blooded, and it can never be cold enough for me. I love to keep the air conditioner at 70 degrees (21.1 Celsius). She hated it but understood my discomfort. She told me it was easier to warm up than cool down. I laughed because I used to tell her that she had no business growing up in Colorado since she had almost no tolerance for cold.

Resting in the corner, I notice a nice see-through top. It was flowery. She wore a yellow top under it. I recognized it immediately because the last thing she wore with me was captured in a photograph. It was our wedding anniversary. We went to the Grand Lux to eat. The meal was excellent. We shared some drinks and enjoyed the night off from being full-time parents. After we ate, we went to see Rise of the Planets of the Apes. Who would have thought she’d be gone 6 months later.

The memories flood into my mind, and they cause me to cry. The tears flow as if I was going through her death all over again the day she died. I’m thankful I wasn’t alone on this journey. I had someone there to help me pull myself through this ordeal. But I knew this was a task that I had to do alone. So, in the middle of my crying and her comforting me, I would ask her to leave so I could finish my journey as a man, a husband.

I sat there in the quiet closet. The soundless room was only broken as I sniffled and swallowed my tears. I did a lot of deep breathing and exhaling. I thumbed through her clothing, placing the garments in storage boxes. Some clothes are set aside for donations, most for storage in an air-conditioned facility. There, they will rest until her family can go through some of her things.

I never thought I could do the business of cleaning out this place, but I knew I had to. I had claimed a new bedroom and decided to make our old room our boys’ new room. It will be nice for them to laugh and play where their mom laid her head.

Just a few more articles of clothing that I have to pack away now. I have a lot of it stored in plastic bins. I can hear the echo of my voice off the bare walls of the closest. It’s almost empty now. Soon, everything will be replaced. I suppose that’s how life goes. Empty out the closet of old memories while filling it again with new ones. It was time to free her soul. You can’t keep a life living in the closest. I must set her free to unshackle my emotions so that I can live free myself. 

800 words





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