I finally got to where I'm going. But the more time I spend here the more I am forced to look back.
I unpacked all my clothes today. A mix of stuff from when I came here and everything I've picked up along the way.
There's a whole ton of pajama pants. These are from the Kernan and from the nursing home. These where when I couldn't dress myself and had to have help with the most minute task. These were comfy and easy to get over legs that don't want to help. They were also easy to remove if my bowels decided they weren't going to cooperate either.
I have a random assortment of tees. I only came with two or three sets of clothes, only expecting to stay about a week and a half. The rest are struck with landmarks of my extended family's past. There are shirts from blood drives in places I've never heard of. There is a shirt from a birthday party of an uncle, who's birthday bash I never attended. Gifts from family when i was in need. I needed to be clothed when I was naked and they gave me the shirt off their backs.
There are endless random socks. Some are loaned, some where newly bought. I have some thick wool socks because it got so cold in the nursing home. I spent many days there, looking out on the feet of snow that descended when I was there. I had few visitors and the staff was forced to stay there because it wasn't safe to drive. I never thought socks would bring back memories.
There are a few pairs of workout shorts. These were when I was moved to Kennedy. I was finally put in a PT program that forced me to work hard, driving to the point where I was sweating again (weird as it sounds, this is one of the happiest times).
And finally there are the jeans. Back when I had two legs these were all I wore; wearing a pear of khakis made me feel strange. Having not worn them for some time, they felt constraining and uncomfortable. They were something from a past life. But I felt normal wearing them again. They were when I was just starting to get out into the community a little bit. They represented a little bit of the freedom that had been stolen from me and that I'm now just starting to get back.
Where does all this mess of mismatched memories and clothes leave me? With a mess and more laundry that I have to do.