I looked longingly at a rack of clothes this morning. Every item was in my style and size, sorted by type – shells, short-sleeved T-shirts, longer sleeves, palazzo pants, regular pants, jeans, skirts, suits, jackets, dresses, casual wear, track suits – bottoms and tops hung together. In fact, sadly, I was in my own walk-in closet. I haven’t worn real clothes for so long, it was like seeing them anew.
Some days I decide to wear something other than crops and a shell … but the moment doesn’t last long. Like many of my neighbors, sorties are reserved for taking our dogs out and walking to the mail room.
It’s the absence of anticipation that is so dispiriting. There’s nothing tangible to look forward to because we can’t make plans. Yes, we can hope to take a vacation or visit friends and family … one day … but my favorite craft festival is postponed and I suspect will be canceled and who knows what 2021 will bring. But if we can’t look forward to the future, let’s look back to the past. I’m having a blast looking out old photos and posting them in my high school Facebook group; I’m sending copies of family photos to other family members around the world; I got out my mother’s recipe binder and plan to make an old-fashioned refrigerator date cake that I loved as a child; and I looked at my retirement to-do list and checked off several items as completed. As I’ve said before, they can’t take memories away; we might not be making many new memories but there’s nothing wrong with the old ones.