The Hardest Day

What a day! I had told myself I would do this and I did, but it was, simply put, awful! I felt it was so very important to put Ben's clothes to good use and there is no one I know near his size (not even clothes size). How many 3XTall, size 14 shoe men does one meet in a lifetime?  I won't go into the other size concept issues as he remains larger than life itself to me, as well as to many who knew him. That may be part of why I can not fully accept that he is gone. Anyway, after today he won't have to come back to the sport coats, pants and shoes (something he didn't really like too much anyway, he preferred his slippers, knit shirts or flannels and worn-in pants). They are gone down to the church to go on to Joplin to hopefully outfit someone of generous proportions  who is in need of them. I really thought I had talked myself into this based on the need. I certainly tried to. I had sent boxes of his woven shirts to Lainy to make into quilts as she can and that wasn't too hard. But today, taking his clothes down from the closet was. There haven't been too many times that I have utterly broken down, even though I have talked about crying too much in the blog posts. Today broke me. I did it. The clothes are gone but the price was/is higher than I thought. I know people talk about taking the lost loved one's clothes as a particularly taxing procedure. Now I understand. Why, I don't know, but I think the thought that the clothes are gone means quite clearly that he is also really gone, is at the root. Knowing is not always really knowing.