A Visit With My Clothes

It was in a word, depressing.

I had come down unannounced, hoping my visit would bring a shower of unbridled joy. Instead, I was greeted like an intruder.

It is clear my clothes liked that I was away. Nobody to make them do anything. No appointments to keep, no obligations to meet, nothing but the time to do absolutely nothing if they so chose.

They clearly had been partying in my absence. How else to explain some underwear in the sock drawer, a long sleeve shirt hanging out with the short sleevers.

One of the shorts, those khakis that were my favorite, appeared happy, if not excited by my appearance. I got a smile and a nod, which is more than I can say for any of its neighbors.

I wonder if their allegiance may have wandered elsewhere during my extended disappearance. My key was in the hand of one or two others who were about my size. But I don't even want to think about that.

No one would talk about it with me. Clearly there was a code of silence  throughout their ranks.

The only one who did speak was a red polo shirt, the resident comedian. He reported the following:

"A pair of shoes was missing because they got their walking papers.

My best dress shirt wasn't there because it was still tied up.

My old pants were not coming because now they were on the loose.

The new golf hat was uncertain about me because it was trying to size me up.

My gray belt was not appearing because it was throwing a fit.

My hiking shoes were upset because they were sure they had given me the boot."

 I now realized that I had never been the master of this universe. My clothes had a mind of their own and I was only allowed in as long as my presence was tolerated. The shoe, I learned, was on the other foot.

It is a moment of great upheaval for all. This relentless disease has thrown our assumptions about the order of our days into disarray. What we once understood with absolute certainty no longer comes with any guarantee. And so it was with my clothing. I was now but an unwanted guest in their domain.

My visit was brief, for I have removed myself back to the place where I have been residing these past months as I try to wait out the storm. My heart is more than a little heavy, even if the rest of me is a bit thinner now.

For I understand that my mark is negligible, my importance to be discarded like an old sock full of holes. I am in control of absolutely nothing . Not even my clothes.