• I opened the door to my room. The sun poured through the window, bathing my room with sunshine. I brought the basket of clean clothes in and poured it onto my bed. The smell of lavender and vanilla began to fill the room as well. I heard the pigeons outside cooing, as if they wanted to come in as well.

    I gently shook out an article of clothing from the pile. It was my favorite blue plaid pajama pants. My friend had given me these pants for Christmas several years ago. I remember the joy I felt as she, with a smile on her face, appeared at my door. It was the feeling of warmth, the feeling of being loved. I neatly folded it in half three times, forming a square. All the edges were straightened out. I placed the blue pajama pants in its respective place.

    I took another piece of clothing from the pile. This time, it was a white dress adorn with small black flowers. I looked above my computer at the picture of my sister and me at a family cruise 5 years ago. She was wearing the white dress and I was wearing a grey dress: a hand-me-down from my sister’s graduation. I had always admired my sister. She was so stylish and everything, especially the white dress, looked beautiful on her. Several years after that, I wore that dress, and practically every other dress that was hanging in her now empty room. I clipped the dress onto the hanger. I hung it in its respective place in my closet.

    While sorting through my clothes, I found my brother’s tee-shirt. This was a strange find because we all do our own laundry. I held the shirt in front of me. It was a graphic tee-shirt—brown with green trees on the front. I mused at this shirt. Several years ago, my sister and I frenzied around Target trying to find the perfect present for his birthday. This shirt was the product of that. I laughed, because I’ve never seen him wear this shirt before. I folded the sleeves on each side, and folded it in half. I walked out my room and opened the door of his room. I gently crept in and laid it on his bed. I crept back out.

    I continued folding my clothes. I couldn’t help but wonder about the fate of my clothes. How many memories does it contain already? How many memories will it hold in the future? I placed the last tank top into the drawer, and closed the closet door. I climbed into my bed. The scent of lavender and vanilla lingered.

    That night, I dreamed that all my clothes, tattered and worn to its fullest, were in the dump. From there, I heard them laugh and reminisce about the memories they held: sadness, happiness, love, warmth…

    I rejoiced with them.