Monday, October 06, 2003

I didn't know it was Yom Kippur when I decided tonight was the night I'd clean out her closet, having been raised Lutheran. And frankly, I don't think Atonement has anything to do with this. It's just a coincidence.

And it's not really her closet anymore, either. Hasn't been for two years. Since then, it's been a place to stick things I didn't want to deal with, like the new foam we ordered for the couch. I didn't really like the idea, but the old cushions were too soft for her. They hurt her back. But once I knew she wasn't coming back, I put the old foam back in, and stuck the new stuff in her closet, where it company with her old dresses and clothes from before she found fashion. And the shoes. Good lord, the shoes.

I don't want to make this into something it isn't, but when I pulled out her kimono, there was a spider on it. The kimono her mother gave her that her biological father picked up in Japan before she was born, before he decided that a young wife and new daughter was something he didn't want. The father whose picture she kept on her mirror in the apartment she moved into when she said she wasn't coming home. The father she never met who probably didn't know he was just a link in a chain of men who didn't stay and might not care if he knew, if he's even still alive.

It's not symbolic that I shook it off onto the floor and stomped it, but not before I took a good look at it. It's not symbolic that I went immediately online to find a picture of a brown recluse, saw a picture and said, out loud to an empty house, yep, that's what it was. It's just a fact of life in this part of the country that when you come back to a closet that's been mostly shut up for two years, it's best to shake things out before you handle them too much, and keep an eye on the floor to see what drops out.

That's why they call them recluses.

No comments: