Nancy had a mastectomy at the tender age of 32 and was cancer free for fourteen years. It returned with a vengeance…She continued on like the brave little thing she was…cheering me up when I was sad because of what she was going through…Nancy left this scarf at our home the last time she and her husband stayed for a few days. I said, "Don't worry, honey, I'll bring it when we come to see you." Two of her sisters, her Dad and I would all be there on her birthday. She died the day before we arrived.

This skirt was worn by my mother the day the Lord called her home. My mother was an amazing person who was there for others, something I admired most about her. Not only was she an amazing person but an amazing mother. On the day she died, she was attending a funeral wearing this skirt and looking beautiful, as always. If I had known it was the last day I was going to see her I never would have let her go. Rest in peace, my beautiful mother. You are forever in my heart.

On the bus ride returning from your funeral and visit with our family, I awoke from a nap and saw you standing in the aisle smiling down at me. I remember you were wearing your brown shirt and brown pants…I thought of your apparition often, it was my anchor, as I struggled through my grieving period...You will always be remembered with love.

My wife Lin wore this dress almost constantly the month leading up to her death. She had a very painful tumor protruding from her belly, so she liked to wear things that weren't too tight. The colour of this dress looked so pretty on her...Such a soft, restful shade of blue. Lin died peacefully...wearing this dress...She gave me the gift of allowing me to care for her and just be with her through her dying process. Daily I rubbed her back. I will never forget the smell of that lovely gardenia cream and the soft, loose feel of her skin...My last memories of her are of birds singing quietly out the window, the smell of gardenia, and blue.

The best reminder I have of Elyse wearing this blouse is at a "slow food" celebration at a nearby organic farm…As always, she looked as vibrant and radiant as the clothes she wore. My wife had great taste for the best things in life. The blouse is blue and so am I...After over 30 years of marriage, you are a team that works together...Ouch, my team has a huge gap in it and it's almost like we have to cancel the game. But we won't...We'll honour her every way we can.

This jacket was a fixture in Bob's wardrobe. I can picture him wearing it while raking leaves on a cool fall day or taking our son, Ben, for a walk in his carriage. When Bob started having problems with mobility…he required clothing that was easier to maneuver in...The jacket remained in the closet, a reminder of easier times...It is now time to part with Bob's Queen's jacket. I am glad that it will take on a new life.

My Aunt Terry was the original second hand shopper…She would take my mom, my sisters and me on Saturday morning excursions to the original clothing recyclers in the 1970s and 80s…After she died, my sisters and I helped my mother to go through Aunt Ter's apartment. I remember walking into her closets, burrowing into her clothes, surrounding myself with her scent, and the many colours and textures of her life...These flowing polka-dotted shorts remind me of Aunt Ter's flair for fashion, the beauty that she contributed to the world around her and the many ways that she has influenced my life.

As I smell your parka, there are many hints of you that linger, Dad, after fourteen years. Holding your parka close, I smell the coffee that you drank, the bacon that you loved to eat, the cigarettes that you smoked, and the ever sweet cologne that went on every dawn. The smell takes me into your arms and into the comforts of deep love. As I touch your parka I feel your pain, the constrictions preventing your warm heart from an expanded life. I recall your dreams...I remember your hope and endurance. As I touch your parka I touch what is possible in my own life; I hold fast to my dreams and even tighter to hope.

I remember my mother wearing this scarf with her black winter coat. She would tie the scarf in one fold, flattening it forward, then stretching it sideways, a technique which maximized its visibility. The scarf looked beautiful around my mother's neck. It radiated the same vitality, brightness and originality that was my mother.

My lovely and sweet MC, since your sudden departure not a day has gone by when I don't think of your wonderful smile and your soothing voice…I sometimes wish I could go back in time and change the course of things by giving birth sooner so your wish of being a grandmother could have been fulfilled...Even though you cannot physically be here, I will try my best to convey all the wonderful things you would have bestowed upon your adoring granddaughter. Your spirit will live on forevermore.