I read a blog by another widow blogger last night where she went through her husband’s stuff and only allowed herself to keep ten things. She didn’t say what she kept (like does her wedding ring count as one of the ten?). She spent a whole day getting rid of his stuff and the next whole day in bed. I don’t blame her. I’m wondering why she did it that way, though. That would certainly be my response but I’m just not ready to part with all but 10 objects that Sawan used to own.
Initially, when I moved my stuff from the condo, I just moved stuff that I needed to survive, and left the room that had all of his clothes and fishing gear in it untouched. When I finally decided I needed to get the condo on the market, I was going to just pack everything up into boxes and deal with it later, but I did give some of it away. For instance, his shoes. I gave all of those to Goodwill, except his cowboy boots and the boots that go with his fishing waders. Those I still have. I’m not sure why it was easy to part with shoes, and not t-shirts, but it was. In fact, it was this strange feeling of “I never want to see these again. EVER.” So I got rid of them.
The boxes probably would stay downstairs in my storage forever, since I don’t have to look at them on a regular basis, but I’m going to have to move in about 6 weeks. I’ve decided to buy a house. (I chose the house, and not the condo, by the way, and part of it, I’ll admit, is so that I don’t have to face getting rid of all of his stuff, yet). So with the upcoming move, its sort-of lit a fire under me and I’ve gotten rid of some of the stuff. I’ve done a little sorting. I’ve got a long way to go, but I’m working on it.
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Sawan’s sister was in town from LA this week and so I gave her a few things that were his and some of the stuff that he had that was his mom’s and also set aside some things for their other sister, so I’m making progress. It was a hard, hard day, where we both took crying breaks, but it feels good to be “cleaning house” a bit. I have fewer boxes in the storage, and that feels good. And, I’m pacing myself, and that feels right for me.
It's interesting that things I couldn't even IMAGINE not having a few years ago have been casually tossed in the last six months. I cannot even remember what they were, but I'm fairly confident it was just the random detritus of life. Maybe an old chapstick, a pen of the bank in Los Alamos, etc. Things with his handwriting on it do not get tossed, no matter how trivial. In fact, I probably need to laminate a certain piece of paper that's covered in his labor & delivery coaching notes. I keep it in a red binder that's frequently with me. I'd be very sad if I lost it, but it's very nice to come across it every now again.
ReplyDeleteOne of the hard parts for me was when his clothing stopped smelling like him. I miss that smell, a really subtle blend of Old Spice deodorant, a Hugo Boss cologne I gave him, and him. Sigh.
I'm glad you are doing things in a process that works for you. It's helpful to have circumstances push you into it a little, and helpful to feel like you are going at your own pace.