The ten bags of clothing sat on my dinning room floor for a couple of days. I was constantly walking past them there was no escaping them. I had this thought to go through them all again just in case I was getting rid of anything I shouldn't.
But I didn't.
Then came Monday, I loaded up the car, just as well I have a sportswagon, filled the boot and the back seat beside Boo and we drove to our local Vinnies.
I honked my horn out the back lane like I was instructed to when I called to make sure they in fact needed ten bags of clothes and out came a lovely man who helped me unload the car. I wanted to tell him to make sure they went to good homes because they belong to my dead husband. You know my best friend, my companion, my lover, my sons Daddy.
But I didn't.
He rolled down the shutters and off he went. The ten bags out sight.
I thought since I was there I should go into the store to have a look around. I caught a glimpse of the back room and there were the bags ready to be sorted, Max's shirt, the one that still had it's sleeves rolled up, was hanging out of one of the bags. I took a deep breath held back the tears and continued browsing. I bought some old/new toys for Boo to play with on our plane trip and left knowing that Max's clothes would soon be circulating the community and helping others. I have this urge to go back to the store this week, to see his clothes hanging on the racks and to touch them again.
But I wont.