Yesterday, except for a yoga class in the morning, we spent the whole day packing up Lauren's room. This was fun for me, as I am freakishly addicted to cleaning out closets. It was like a walk through old times sorting out Lauren's clothes. So many memories. I remember the Gap shorts she bought in tenth grade with me along to pay for them. Then there were the various dresses we bought together for occasions like her college graduation. And the JCrew hipslung jeans bought on Christmas break of her freshman year. What is it about mothers and daughters and the bonding ritual of clothes shopping? Who else do you go into the dressing room with to be the official hanger-upper? The saddest part is that I realize this will probably be the last time I ever help her sort through her entire wardrobe to analyze every item, deciding what to keep, and what to leave behind. It seems, as we go through life, this is a process we must repeat again and again. Sometimes with our clothes and kitchenware, sometimes with our thoughts and beliefs. And sometimes with a buddy. Or a mom who agrees to sew up all the torn seams. Some things never change.
Oh, and the day before yesterday, we had adventures in San Francisco. Went to a yoga class in the Mission District. I was at least twenty years older than every other person there. If the telltale grey hairs didn't give me away, the loudly creaking joints most definitely did. Oh well. The stacks of rolled up yoga mats were so lovely and colorful. Art is everywhere, it seems.
Bittersweet.
ReplyDeleteYep.I can see both sides, so I guess that is a good thing. I hope all is well with your clan.
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