This morning I gathered more of Warren's clothes, checked the pockets and then made my fourth trip to a donation center to drop them off. Each time I've done that it's been a highly charged, emotional event for me. The first three times, I sat in the parking lot after bringing the clothes in and had a complete meltdown. This fourth time I silently wept all the way home. And the rest of this day seems to be a time of deep reflection and remembrance, notwithstanding the fact that yesterday was his second Yahrzeit and tomorrow would have been our fifty-third anniversary.
I came home and stood in the closet looking at the empty space where those clothes were. Even though there are a lot more of his clothes left to donate, looking at the empty space jolted me like a flash of lightning. I felt that emptiness. And it hurts.......... a lot.
As I sniffle my way through this task I need to keep in mind what Ethan and Abbott told me: "People will get joy out of wearing his clothes and so Dad continues to do good in the world."
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