I bought funeral clothes today. I meandered aimlessly through the racks, my eyes peripherally tuned into black Every so often my fingertips would brush along the fabric of this piece or that. Most they dismissed, allowing my mind to keep its disjointed focus.
I wonder who will be sure he has supper and who will clean his clothes. I wonder who will take care of him, now that she is gone. I wonder these things, though in truth, he’s been doing it all along for the two of them. He has been caring for her. And then I wonder, who will he take care of now? How will he pass the minutes? I think about which would be the easiest dinner to make and transport. I think about cookies, fresh from the oven. I think about time and its diminishing nature.
My heart is full for my friend who, from this day forward, will be living alone. He keeps his upbeat on. He has his children and grandchildren gathered about like a warm blanket. He keeps his friends informed. He draws in his support network. Today he makes plans for his wife’s funeral. Tomorrow we will learn of the details. Soon we will all come together.
I bought funeral clothes today, harsh in color but soft to touch. I hardly looked at them, but it doesn’t matter, these clothes were made for hugging.