After

By Vera Constantineau

She died. And each day we discovered disconnected items in large quantity. Boxes in a variety of sizes filled closets from floor to ceiling. In one box, a lifetime of picture calendars marked with births, deaths, funeral dates, marriages and anniversaries. In another box, funeral cards and wedding invitations. 

At the back bedroom closet a pile of chocolate boxes held safety pins separated into their box by size. Tied tight with binder twine, another held dad’s work shirts, neatly folded. His name stitched on each front pocket above company crests, reminiscent of his jobs, like an oil change of thoughts. 

This family of five was scattered for years, yet came together again to opine. To dispense the goods in closets jammed with secrets and surprises in a mishmash of faces, bodies, personalities and lifestyles. If we’d dug deeper earlier, what else might we have discovered. So many closets left unopened.

shadow lives

tied up and stashed

for no one to see

Closed Off, digital illustration, boy Roland