MAR. 10, 2006
CLOSET MEMORIES

It was a rainy weekend, and I was stuck moping around indoors. Between the lousy weather and the boredom, I was in a pretty rotten mood.

I was hoping I'd get called out on a murder case, but no one called. So finally I decided to get off the couch and do something I've been meaning to do for a while now.

When I moved out of the house, I left a lot of my stuff behind. I knew that Karen had taken the boys out of town for the weekend, so I figured this wouldn't be a bad time to stop by the house and pack up some of my things.

I thought I'd be in and out pretty quickly, but when I got to the house I saw the big closet full of junk that I'd been meaning to clean out. I'd put it off for about 10 years, but I decided that now was the time to finally do it.

I started to plow through the mess, pulling out old annuals, wedding pictures, my academy graduation photos, birthday cards, books and articles I'd intended to read but never did, some of the boys' old homework and report cards, and lots of other things.

I made three piles in the living room: one pile I'd definitely look at, the second pile I might look at, and the third pile I wouldn't waste my time on, mainly because they were Karen's things.

In digging through the closet I also found several bottles of wine. We'd packed them away, waiting for a special occasion. I guess we never had one. Karen's never been much of a drinker so I figured she wouldn't miss the stuff.

It seemed like as good a time as any for a drink, so I opened a bottle.

By the end of the day, I'd managed to get through Karen's entire pile. I was planning to ignore those things, but I found myself reading through her old college papers. She'd been into women's lib and psych and all that stuff, so there were a bunch papers on relationships.

Normally, I'm not too interested in that kind of thing, but these papers got me thinking about our marriage and what had gone wrong with it. I felt like answers could be in these papers, and if I just read them I might be able to figure it out.

So I opened a second bottle of wine and sat reading paper after paper. I felt like I could hear Karen's voice -– it was as if she were in the room with me.

When I finished, I was as confused as ever. I missed Karen, and I was more emotional than I had expected. I'm sure the wine didn't help.

It didn't seem like a very good idea to drive back to my place that night, so I slept on the couch, where I'd spent more than a few nights during my marriage.

The next morning I vowed to stay out of Karen's things and concentrate on the first two piles. And no wine.

I was still hoping for a murder investigation to distract me, but again no calls came in.

I spent hours going through all the boring junk, and then I hit pay dirt: old relics from our younger days. I found my old leather fringe jackets and the beaded headbands I use to wear. I thought I was such a rebel in that ridiculous get-up. Hard to believe those ever belonged to me.

Of course, when I got hired by the police department I had to retire the jacket and headband.

I found a bunch of old records, and posters from all the concerts we used to go to: Cream, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Van Morrison, Jefferson Airplane. Amazing how many memories music can bring back.

I put on one of the old records as I kept going through the closet. Then I really struck gold: I found my beat-up old Silvertone acoustic guitar. I was a little rusty, but after spending the rest of the day practicing I had managed to relearn some old classics.

The guitar felt great in my hands –- like we belonged together. At least there's one relationship I can make work.

Past Entries:

• (3/3) Mrs. Gilroy Called Today
• (2/3) Classroom Duty
• (1/27) Chilling Wakeup
• (1/20) The Dinner Party
• (1/13) The Team Building Workshop