Trashing My Clothes {Or Not?}

I grabbed this skirt and plain black t-shirt to wear the other day...and then I almost didn't. They are lucky to have made the trip all the way to Georgia. In fact, I almost ditched them two moves ago. They were literally in a box going to the Goodwill. I walked past them several times, then caved and pulled them out - not sure I would actually ever BRAVE wearing them again.

Don't get me wrong. They fit. Honestly, they are incredibly comfortable. Maybe THAT is why I grabbed them on that crazy morning in July 2013. This is what I wore on the day of Pete's outpatient sinus surgery. And this is what I was wearing 48 hours later - the outfit I slept in curled up in a chair in ICU room. This is what I was wearing when I looked in the mirror in a hospital ladies' room, glad I was all alone so I could finally cry my eyes out. The same thing I was wearing when I sat in our driveway and completely broke down - realizing I was about to walk in to tell my kids what ALMOST happened - when I could have been facing the unimaginably daunting task of telling them their dad was gone (for now). These are the clothes I dropped on the bathroom floor when I was finally able to shower, hoping that, if I stood there long enough, the hot water might somehow wash away at least PART of the bizarre reality of what had happened.

I started to HATE seeing this outfit. But then something occurred to me: I could wear this outfit and be THANKFUL because it represents the day(s) God chose to leave a wonderful husband here on earth with me. And, hopefully, this reminder to be appreciative would also serve to encourage me to make the best of each day He has given us since. 

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