When We’re Too Old to Hang Onto Those Memories, and the Judgment That Comes With Them

The clothing we wear, what we discard, and the stories they tell

A fellow older writer named Sue, who lives a few hours north or where I woke up this morning in Coos Bay, is going through much the same process I am right now as we process stuff, justify or un-justify whether or not to keep a thing.

This is the thought from Sue’s piece that got my attention this morning:

It’s like the red jacket I thought I would wear to church on Saturday with a white blouse and black slacks. When I looked in the closet, it was gone. I had forgotten I gave it to Goodwill a few months ago because it was out of style and didn’t fit well anymore. But I used to look really good in that jacket. I guess I want to hold on to the woman I was when I bought it as a newly fledged newspaper editor. (Author bolded)

This line struck me in particular because I’ve been so identified with a part of me that looked a very certain way at a very certain time in my life. My clothing closet is one of the last areas where I get to do the deep dive. I have a few things that I know damned good and well I need to release.

One of them is a simply lovely, diaphanous Italian wedding dress (oh for crying…