Sorting the Remnants of a Life
As many of you know, I lost my sweet Rob just a bit over 19 months ago. To date, all I have done with his things are to wash his bed side water glass, and put a few of his “out” things away, like his wallet, keys, and other things he packed on his belt and pockets on a daily basis. I put them away, so they did not get covered in dust or sun faded from the bedroom window. The only other things that are gone are the things I gave to his kids.
His toothbrush, shaving items, and other things are exactly where he left them the day he went to the hospital. The book he was reading is still in the bathroom vanity drawer. His pillows are still on the bed. His slippers are under his bedside table.
I have not been able to bring myself to move his life.
I have long wanted to have a weaving loom and sewing machine in the house so that I can work on my projects when it’s really hot or cold outside. I love my studio, but there are pretty much only two seasons where I can work out there without boiling or freezing. When I have to fix sheep coats in winter, it really sucks to have to try and get that space warm with plug in heaters. Sadly, the house is small enough that having those things in here on a permanent basis won’t work. It’s just small and oddly shaped enough to make it a problem for those of us who live here.
I was looking at Rob’s office/hobby room as a possible space for that. There is a desk that can accommodate the sewing machine and the floor space is big enough for one of my looms.
The room is a mess though. Those of you who did not know my Rob, don’t know that he was a pretty big pack rat. He kept everything. He did cull a lot when we moved 4 years ago, knowing we were going into a smaller space.
It’s been a lot more difficult for me to go in there to sort things out to make some space. Not because there is a lot of sorting to do, but because I keep feeling like I’m erasing him somehow.
Erasing his life.
That is not what I want to do, not now, not ever.
I’m not throwing away his things, other than the obvious things that can go, old receipts, empty plastic bags, broken screws, etc. I’m just trying to sort out the tools that can go out to the shop, put like with like, and box up memento’s so they stay together safely.
And it so freaking hard to do!!!
In two weeks since I started this, I’ve only been able to spend about 20 mins in there. I’ll walk in to do some sorting only to have to walk back out in tears after doing nothing. I’m finding that my sleep pattern has gotten worse since I started this, not that it was good to begin with. I lay in bed arguing with myself over moving his things. I think about how he would feel about me being in there doing that. He was always pretty protective of his space. He liked his things where he put them and was not happy when someone moved anything on him. I know he would not be thrilled with me messing around in there.
Mentally and emotionally this is tearing me up inside.
I’m so torn between getting that room to a state where I can use it, and leave it alone because it’s Rob’s space. I know he’s not coming back to use it. It feels like I’m removing him to touch it.
Like I’m erasing his life.
I know in my mind that there is no way I can erase him since I hold so many memories of our life together. My heart is not feeling that way though. It breaks more whenever I go in there. I’m feeling more angry about him being gone.
I wonder if it’s worth it for just a loom and sewing machine.
I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, I hate this new normal. I hate everything about it.
Blessed Be.
I think that Rob would understand how important that space would be to your efforts to preserve the dream that the two of you shared. Having the work space gives you potential income streams and makes maintaining the flock more efficient and every little thing you can do to ease the way forward is important.
Making that space a workroom is a good way to connect with the time he spent in there. I think that your courage honors his spirit and I hope you’ll feel surrounded by his love when you share that space.
Ah, I know that pain so well. I'm so sorry you have to go through this. My Ed died 15 months ago and I'm just now getting serious about clearing out drawers that were his but that I could use now. I looked in the closet the other day and was startled to see there were still shirts and pants in there when I thought I had cleared them all out. I was actually happy to see them there. I don't know when I'll ever pack them up now.
It does feel like erasing and I don't know how to get past that, either. Thankfully, Ed was not a pack rat. But the things he did have were important to him and now I have to struggle with what to keep and what to move out.
You've written this so beautifully. I hope you'll feel comfortable enough to keep writing whenever something is tugging at you. There are so many of us who can relate and we need to find ways of articulating that pain we're feeling. Reading your words can do that. Thank you.