All day yesterday I was collapsed in a heap with a properly raised temperature and flu-like symptoms that psychosomatically and subconsciously caused the postponement of the inevitable task of clearing up his stuff. Finally got down to it today.

T-shirts from various parts of the world and from several local stores, a number of them with a story attached, a little conversation or a comment. Favourite ones a bit faded and worn at the neckline, gym ones with the sleeves roughly cut off, full-sleeved ones for winter, a few well fitting ones to show off his arm muscles, especially triceps, which he claimed ‘could dam a river’, some with a musical theme and others with tiny skulls, mostly plain ones which is how he liked them. Just plain cotton t-shirts. I could almost see him in each one of them as I looked at them. One by one they all went from his wardrobe into a box.

Next I found myself frantically looking for a reason to postpone giving them away – we shall have to wait till we find the right person or the right charity …..

Then came his rugby ball, his badminton racket, his sleeping bag, his djembe, his backpack, his shoes, belts, jeans …..

More than enough for one day.