I’ve been kinda quiet, but I’m still here! Lots going on over here, family and life … you know how it is.
Since my dad’s passing, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. When I was cleaning out my parent’s home, there was SO much stuff in it, I didn’t think I’d ever be done. It was a grueling task, but at the same time, it kept me connected to them. I was in their house, the house I grew up in. There were memories everywhere I turned. And as I cleared out each room, I would unearth things I hadn’t seen in decades. It was cathartic, in a way, if that makes sense.
Every day I went over there, I knew I was going to see something that belonged to my Mom, something that would evoke strong emotions in me. That helped me feel connected to her, even though she passed away years ago.
When the house was completely cleared out, there was a twinge of disappointment. It was all gone. There was nothing left of their personal belongings, or any of my childhood possessions. It was as if they’d never lived there. It had all been erased.
I knew I wouldn’t be going back into that house again. I wouldn’t be finding anymore “lost treasures.” Grief hit me, all over again.
I’m still grieving. I still think about their house, my former home. Part of me wishes I could’ve kept it, held on to it. Parting with that house meant parting with them, and saying goodbye, once more.
I think about the contents of their home, all the things I got rid of. That one really hurts. I gave away SO much stuff! I threw away SO much stuff. I donated SO much stuff. I kept less than I wanted to. There were nights that I literally carried trash bags and boxes full of stuff to the curb, for others to take. I’d stay at the house cleaning, and sorting through items for hours. By the time I’d leave, everything on the curb would be gone. I was glad to be rid of it, and glad someone else would get to use it, but at the same time it hurt letting their stuff go. It hurt not knowing where it had gone, or who had it. I know that probably sounds silly, but it’s the truth.
I still struggle with that. I gave away so many of their possessions, and I feel guilty. I realize I did what needed to be done, because I couldn’t keep everything, but it still hurts. When you lose your parents, then lose all their possessions, it messes with your mind. At least it messes with mine.
I keep second guessing myself about the things I got rid of. I’ll think about something and be like, “I should’ve kept that!” Every item I let go … was like letting go of them. I didn’t want to let them go.
As the oldest child, I feel like I let them down. I threw away their prized possessions, things they worked so hard for, things they treasured. That’s not a good feeling.
When you lose someone, there are many different levels of loss. There are so many emotions involved in every aspect. Things you never even considered might cause you pain, definitely cause pain.
My advice to you: Don’t rush to get rid of your loved ones items. Really think about what you’re doing, before you do it. I was operating on autopilot. I needed to clear everything out as quickly as possible, because I live in another state. I had to get back to my family. If I’d had more time, I would’ve made different choices.
Now, I just have to be gentle with myself. I did the best I could at the time. I know my parents would understand that. But it still hurts.
