In a few weeks it will be the fifth anniversary of my brother Brian’s death. It’s also the birthday of my nephew Will, which soothed me a lot at the time, and has ever since.
Among his mountains of great stuff, Brian had an amazing collection of blazers and jackets, having once worked in Marketing for Ralph Lauren, and been friends with the founder of Rowing Blazers.
When Brian’s friends and I – mostly them – cleaned out his Nashville loft we arranged for all his things to be donated to some wonderful local charities. He used to drive around town with a trunk full of care packages he put together for homeless people, so he would have been happy that we donated everything we could.
But I couldn’t let go of the blazers and jackets; they were too much him. Every day I stayed in his loft to deal with his funeral and estate I would hold them close to my face to catch the last whiffs of his scent. (He mixed his daily fragrance from dozens of bottles, so while he never smelled the same, he always smelled great.)
I needed to keep these clothes close to me, and I knew they would fit Will, and he knew I was shattered, so he agreed to have me send him a box the size of a compact car.
Five years on, they no longer fit Will – young people grow at an astounding rate – so he wanted to know if I wanted them back, or should he bring them to a consignment or vintage shop or ask friends if they would like them. Because now I think of these clothes as Will’s, I said whatever he did would be good.
I think Brian would be amused to think of the new life his beautiful clothes will have with people who will enjoy them, tell the stories of how they got them, and maybe send them off for more adventures. It took me a while, but we get there eventually.
XO Brenda
P.S. the photo of Forget-Me-Nots is by the talented photographer Anna Rozwadowska