. . . and a half-used package of diapers. I've known that they're in the closet all along, but I've been buying new packages of size-three diapers anyway. I remember pulling them out of the box of Miranda's things and stuffing them into the bathroom closet before Portia was born. And I remember thinking how sure I was when I'd bought those diapers two and a half years ago that I would need them all. At the time it hadn't seemed odd, but now it seems so presumptuous to think that Miranda would have been around to use all those diapers.
I finally pulled them out yesterday after I completely ran out of diapers and put the first one on Portia. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. But it did make me think about three boxes of brand-new running shoes.
Several months before we found out dad's cancer was back, he and I had driven to California together to visit my sister. On our way home, we stopped at some outlet malls to walk around and stretch our legs. Dad also needed some new running shoes.
I don't remember the store where dad found them, but they were having a buy two, get one pair of shoes free. So dad bought three identical pair of the same size shoes. So sure he would wear them out and need them all. It makes me cry to think that he never even wore out the first pair.
I asked mom where they were and she didn't remember them. She'd left dad's closet as it was and hasn't completely gone through everything yet, even though she moved out of my childhood home last weekend. In my mind, I picture these boxes stacked perfectly in the corner of his closet. I don't know if they're there, but I know they're somewhere.
I'm worried about my mom breaking down about the assumption that dad would be around to wear out all these running shoes. The way I did when I found the half-used package of Miranda's diapers.
I've been worried a lot lately. Now that my mom is moved out and is in that great-big house all alone, all filled with boxes where she doesn't know where to begin unpacking them. But I know I need to do something for her, somehow get her more comfortable in that big old house. So, I'm heading back in two weekends and Susannah and I are going to try to bring some order to her house, break it in for her--if you will. The first Christmas is hard enough without a loved one, and I can only imagine how hard it will be alone in a big house.
Maybe while I'm there, I'll dig out those boxes of shoes. Find a good use for them. Maybe I'll hold on to a pair of them, stash them along with the jacket dad left in my coat closet when we went to California last summer.
