Do I wash his pillowcase?
I did the first time I washed sheets after he died. I felt like I would be doing him a disservice if I didn’t wash his pillowcase.
Now I know he’s not coming back. The kids aren’t going to sneak in for comfort in the middle of the night.
His pillow, therefore his pillowcase is entirely unused.
So I chose not to wash it. I got used to it. It felt okay.
But then, the first sunny fifty degree day this Spring, I washed my sheets and I was so looking forward to hanging them on the clothesline. There is nothing like that- the fresh sleep and the fresh smell that lingers for a few days in the sheets. It’s so peaceful.
I wasn’t prepared for how that would look on the clothesline. Ridiculous I know. But seeing that one pillowcase alongside giant California King size sheets fluttering in the breeze was a reality I wasn’t ready for.
It seemed symbolic of my aloneness.
One pillowcase.
Not even that it is just one pillowcase, I guess.
It’s just that his wasn’t there.
