My Mother’s Clothes
My mother’s clothes
arrived in a dream
just a bit too large
and dated
I didn’t recognize
the folded shirts
the shoulder-padded dress
with faded patterns
of blue or gray
What should I do
with their heavy weight
their empty reminders
that no one can fill?
I imagine them packed
in thrift shop boxes
hanging useless in closets
or worn by strangers
in future dreams
__________Colleen Redman / Poets United / Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads
July 22nd, 2018 10:57 am
Not sure exactly was precipitated this poem, but it makes me think of what to do with the clothes of one’s parents when they pass away. Very hard, i think, to look at them and decide what to do with them & even trying to remember what they looked like in clothes you don’t even recognize.
July 22nd, 2018 11:08 am
Oh, a dream does lose its hold in its close inspection or realization. This verse seems to me to be stemming from a loss of familiarity. Perhaps to wake before you know is the best possible outcome right now. Well-penned.
July 22nd, 2018 11:23 am
This reminds me of the time my dad passed.
Knowing what to do with his clothes was overwhelming. A poignant and beautiful write.
July 22nd, 2018 12:07 pm
An interesting dream, your mother’s clothes, too big and unfamiliar. Waking before you found the answer so often happens in dreams.
July 22nd, 2018 1:15 pm
This is deeply evocative. I get a feeling of sense of pain and loss.. of dealing with the burden of moving on.. which is never easy.
July 22nd, 2018 6:24 pm
Oh, this catches my breath. To find reminders that life doesn’t fit the way it used to while dreaming is an invitation to days thinking about the past.
July 22nd, 2018 8:36 pm
Dreams sometimes allow us to take a sideways look at things that might be too painful to take in directly. The idea of all those clothes left behind really impresses the feeling of emptiness and loss.
July 22nd, 2018 11:39 pm
That sense of loss … with that image of the empty dress… wonderfully written.
July 22nd, 2018 11:52 pm
I wore my Mother’s hand-me-downs when I first went back to work after my babies were old enough to leave … (and we were poor because Bill had gone back to college). Years and years later, I gave away her clothes after she died. And I can still remember these clothes although I have no memories of whatever else I’ve cleaned out of my own closet over all those years.
July 23rd, 2018 12:24 am
Oh my! This is evocative, and emotional for me.
July 23rd, 2018 2:00 am
That dream would have made quite an impression, I think – as does reading about it.
July 24th, 2018 7:48 pm
this is so intimately personal – and it’s as if I’ve wandered into this sacred space, perhaps in an attic, and I’m witness to this scene, this life, unfolding (yes, in a dream depiction) and yet, the stories speak, without words – and I feel like I’m gleaning all kinds of meanings and such a sense of a person – and their life ….
it amazes me how you take something and so acutely and compactly word-phrase it, and imbue it with such delicate meanings, and infer desire – to know, to understand, to glean answers – always just a moment too far away, – and you do it all with such sensitivity Colleen – there is something that always lingers in your words, leaves such a lasting impression ….
July 25th, 2018 6:43 am
Isn’t that the way with many dreams? Just when we are on the verge of getting an answer to a burning question, we wake up! Darn!
July 25th, 2018 7:09 am
It’s gotten to the point, these days, where awake is my lesser-favored state.
Great work, as always, CR!
July 25th, 2018 9:14 am
“the dream loses its hold
when the dreamer gets too close”
Boy, isn’t that the truth? And not just about clothes.
July 25th, 2018 11:18 am
Love this remembrance of your mother —evocative, since we can only imagine the relationship — good or strained. Nice!
July 25th, 2018 3:37 pm
I think the clothes of a relative are the hardest to handle… it’s separation, the beginning of walking alone… I wore my grandfather’s clothes when I was young. Maybe you need a generation of separation to accept them.
July 25th, 2018 4:51 pm
I know this Coleen.
My husband still lives (in a care home) but last year, prior to the house being rewired, I felt the time had come to clear his wardrobe, not that much was left in it. His few remaining suits, his work shirts and his favourite jumper (which I didn’t like at all) were boxed up and went to a charity (thrift?) shop. Strangely, it was a releasing thing.
I still love him dearly, but have accepted he will never return home again.
I really do love him…
Anna :o]
July 25th, 2018 11:48 pm
I sit here reading this in my mother’s robe. I remember sorting through her things and knowing so much of it I couldn’t keep. The few things I have I wear around the house. I guess I am trying to make them feel less empty.