The process of going through Maureen’s belongings took a long time. I immediately found a few of her treasured possessions to give to the kids because I thought they needed something right away to still feel some closeness. They have some jewelry, clothing, stuffed animals, etc. It’s hard to explain how some material items suddenly took on this new spiritual characteristic filled with memories. I left a plastic bin open in the bedroom, and whenever I came across something that was too emotional to let go of, or something that I thought the kids may want someday, it went into the bin. The bin is now locked away in the attic to be opened some day when we all need it, or the time is right.
There are still a few things hanging around the house that we keep as reminders. We have wedding photos and family photos from separate phases of our life. We’ve never been much for material possessions, but there are few things that Maureen picked out/accumulated that remind me of her, so they have stayed. I still have many of her teaching books in my bookshelf because they were such an important part of who she was, that I have not been able to part with them. There are still some nice dresses hanging in the closet, that I was hoping the girls might some day wear, but it does not appear that they are ever going to stop growing and would probably look like mini-skirts on them at this point. Her ski jacket was also still packed away with most of her ski gear, but I never really gave that any thought.
Getting ready for the ski season is always a major undertaking. It’s easy to spend a small fortune outfitting everyone, especially as the kids have aged. I feel as if I’m outfitting a small army. I start early by asking everyone to try on last years clothing, making a mental note of what needs to be replaced and what can get us by for another year. This hardly ever works as planned though, and the first day of the season always brings a few surprises. This year, it was Hazel, finding out the night prior to her first ski trip, that Jasper had decided to snack on her jacket and it no longer had a zipper that worked.
(early years) (now)
We’re always trying to stretch the years out of the clothing. Buy it a little large and wear it until it is a little small. The poor girls were always wearing the boys’ hand-me-downs when they were younger and although they never complained, were over the moon when we bought them their own “girls” jackets for the first time. I didn’t really have a back-up plan for replacing a ski jacket last minute. Our trip to the attic to rummage through the bins of old clothes that don’t fit anyone or just too plain hideous for anyone to wear, was unsuccessful. Hazel was not impressed with the options her unsympathetic siblings (and father) were offering.
Audrey and Hazel took a lot of Maureen’s shirts when I was cleaning out clothing, at least the ones they thought were fashionable enough for a 13-year-old to wear. None of us in the house thought twice about wearing her clothes, it was not really a big deal for us. Whatever the kids didn’t want ended up going in the trash. While I had no problem with the kids wearing Maureen’s clothes, I couldn’t fathom the thought of donating them and recognizing her clothing on some random stranger. I know there are plenty of people that could have used some of this clothing, but it just seemed creepy to me and I couldn’t do it.
When Hazel suggested that she could wear Mom’s ski jacket, I thought it was a brilliant idea. She tried it on and was a little bummed that it was not color coordinated with her helmet and ski pants, but it fit well, and it had a working zipper! It was a woman’s jacket, and she seemed to be enjoying the fact that she was able to wear adult clothing while her twin sister was still stuck in last years youth clothing. My mind may have been slightly swayed because I was so used to seeing Maureen in that jacket, but it looked good on Hazel. Problem solved.
Apparently, I am not the only person that finds it creepy to see someone walking (or skiing in this case) around in Maureen’s clothing. Many of her friends immediately spotted the pink jacket zipping around the mountain and thought they were seeing the ghost of ski seasons past. I was approached by numerous people, looking slightly shaken up, faces a little chalky white, asking if one of the kids were wearing the jacket or if it was some hallucination or mystical reincarnation. What once was just an extra jacket used to solve a ski gear dilemma, suddenly blossomed into something much more meaningful. The spirit of Maureen McEnaney did still exist within her small community of friends at Sunday River, but now it was exuberant. I haven’t looked at that jacket the same since that day.
One afternoon, while heading home from the mountain, Hazel was riding shotgun and proceeded down this extensive list of names of people who had approached her to say “Hi” that day. I smiled, because while Hazel was happy to be so popular on the mountain, she did not understand the meaning of the jacket and why she had suddenly become so popular. I proceeded to tell her how many people think that she is Mom (one that came back a few inches taller, with a love of skiing moguls and getting air) and explained how it is a little strange for some to be seeing Mom skiing around the mountain. Her smile turned into a beaming grin and entire body reflected a look of contentment and satisfaction. She now wears that jacket very proudly. It’s her super hero outfit, or maybe that’s just my projection?
