The boys are helping me with my closet. There comes a time… six months after the closet officially becomes ALL mine, that even the children are bothered that I haven’t claimed the space that used to house Mike’s stuff.
I tried a few times. I put a thousand bikinis in a drawer and forgot about them and then frantically wondered where they went and could NOT remember. I decided a bikini thief had struck. I was sure of it. I’d read an article on a crime website about a guy like that once. (I remembered where they were in the middle of the night. And then went to check. So relieved.) Also, I stashed a lot of old crafty stuff i’ll never use again in a far corner. But mainly, I avoided that side of the closet. That was Mike’s space. Still.
I tried to take over his bathroom drawers. I cleaned and scrubbed because there were little black whiskers in there from his electric shaver. It grossed me out and made me sad. And then when the drawers were clean, I just couldn’t think of what I could possibly want to put in there. Sure, I have a ton of stuff… but, I mean, those drawers were waaaaay over there. My stuff doesn’t go there… That was Mike’s space. Still.
The stupid bed project isn’t going much better. I gave away all the old bedroom furniture. I got a much smaller bed and moved it to a different place in the room. Bought a VERY old bed and spent countless hours refinishing it. It’s not finished. Re-finished. Finished being refinished. Whatever. I could do it. I should do it. There’s really nothing stopping me. Except everything. Except that it’s MY bed. Only mine. Only my space. I tell myself that I can’t decide on a color. But I’m guessing it’s probably more than that.
The boys came into the closet with me this morning, put their hands on their hips, and told me they wanted to help. Callie, the border collie mix, came as well. It’s a big closet. They can all fit in there with me, even with their hands on their hips. So I guess they sense it’s time, too.
Okay, maybe if three little boys and a border collie mix stage a closet intervention, it’s probably PAST time.
It just feels so strange sometimes. By the time this is legally over, we will have been married 16 years. At least. (Okay, actually, by the time it’s legally over, we may have been married 60 years.) Even when we were together, we were highly separate. There wasn’t a lot of sharing of space, time, energy, words, vacations, meals, possessions. Now it feels like moving into those spaces is like sharing those spaces… and that’s a weird time to start doing anything like that.
So. This is where i am. I’ll let you know when I take over those spaces and get the bed done.
I’m thinking blue. With fuschia.
And maybe I could build shelves for that long closet wall just for the purpose of holding a cute boot collection. I could do that. I could SO do that.