My Sister’s Closet

Coming from my New Zealand farm cottage built well over a hundred years ago that’s lacking storage space, of any variety, my sister’s roomy closet is a beacon of love and family memories amidst the hanging and folded garments. This almost room-sized area radiates such feelings in me on every visit and I always soak up all the vibes just going in there grinning and/or tearing up a little. There is nothing like it that I’ve ever noticed in anyone else’s closet that compares in emotional impact and whimsy that just seems to spill forth naturally wherever I look, although many people get professional closet storage designers to whip up something spectacular. But none compare with the heartfelt warmth in Penny’s closet. It is a pleasure to behold as I go back through memory lane and admire some gorgeous handbags that Penny has bought lately and not so lately. But mostly it’s the photographs that I just can’t get enough of and the way she’s hung them with little clothes pins across one edge to another. And oddly, I feel like a kid in there.
Before we left America on Thursday our day was filled with various appointments. Her grandson, Zachary, visited us for a makeshift lunch just before we left to get our nails done, putting off the rest of the packing until later in the day when we returned. But fortunately, I spent the early morning taking some photos of the esteemed closet. Had I not taken the time to do that, I wouldn’t have accomplished it later as we were in a state of flux trying desperately to cram all of my creams into plastic bags after taping them shut and finishing up the last-minute rush to shove things into my suitcases. It was a motley collection at best but I wanted to take most of it home. So, we hastily shoved as much as possible, as quickly as possible into my bags so I would have these items when I got home. Thus vitamins and other supplements mixed with non-toxic cleaning products that had been shipped to her US address since the company no longer sent international packages. While John worried and moped outside and stayed out of our way as we became later and later, we managed to get most of what I was packing into the bulging cases.
My nephew had dropped off dinner for us that I wanted to eat and we all scarfed down scrumptious skewered shrimp with garlic butter and a tasty and spicy sweet corn served over a bed of rice. I ate everything on my plate while John and Penny left some. But I felt ravenous and knew that I’d need extra strength to finish my least favorite chore, packing up to leave Penny’s paradise.
We hit a lot of traffic on the short haul to LAX. The cars were backed up and hardly moved once we’d turned into the lanes earmarked for departures. There was no way we’d be on time I thought to myself and John was visibly nervous to get there later than 2 hours before an international flight. But as it turned out we got there right about the time we needed to be there. Sadly, hugging Penny and her son, Glen, who offered to drive us, we left the comfort of family to mingle with thousands of other harried travelers going in one direction or another at the same time. Frantic emotions followed us from there on in.
But having spent a mostly wonderful day with my sister and a bit of time in her closet, it occurred to me that I could conquer the world. Perhaps not in one fell swoop as in days of yore but certainly more than I expected lately.