I'm often still taken by surprise when being able to do some tasks are often a day by day proposition. Mostly these are tasks to do with Ian, but not always. Often this freeze is not so much in the sense of having a 'bad' day, but just a day of not wanting to go there.
Just prior to Christmas I was working on swapping which rooms are used for what around in my house. In order to achieve the swap around I needed, I reached a point I had to do something with a pile of Ian's clothes. This was his 'not much of this is in regular use' pile of clothes that took up a closet and a dresser, that I'd been ...umm... asking... him to sort through for a good year, if not longer.
The first day of the swap around, there was no way I could have gone through the clothes and parted with them. I was so frazzled simply trying to juggle stuff so we had room to work and paint, that it made trying to make decisions on keep/donate/toss just impossible and I would have been screaming like a banshee if I attempted it.
But the next day, I was surprised how easy a task it was to work through a pile of clothes that, for the most part, I never saw Ian wear AND to actually make decisions on what to do with each individual piece. I'd planned to pack them all away in a box or suitcase to be dealt with at a later time, but I found I could do the keep/donate/toss right then and there.
There were some items I kept aside as they did hold memories, but I still filled my trunk with clothes and was even able to take them immediately to an emergency assistance shelter so they could be used, rather than sitting in my house, frankly mocking me because he'd not done the sort out before he got sick.
I've had a couple more days since where I've been able to work through a box here, folder there - I'm learning to grab them when they come; the desire to tidy the place up and de-clutter pre-dates Ian's illness and death, and is still there.
It's just some of the decisions are harder.
I had to clear some things out at 4-5 months in order to survive. I have gone through everything twice, and now on my third time around. When it's time now I deal with it of which I couldn't do before. I just boxed up the many cooking spieces she had and giving to a friend. I hate throwing things away, but are items you have to for no value to anyone else. Sorting is hard to do and have to do it in it's own time that is right for you. I still have a lot of items in the house, not just a few clothes are left, but many decorations that are on the walls. A lot of personal and memorable thoughts. I find that I have to live with many of the items otherwise the house would be pretty empty. It just takes time to let go and very hard to do..
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I hate throwing stuff away, too. Part of it is I hate the idea of the amount of stuff that will wind up in landfill, part of it is the accumulation is because he was who he was (in my case, I could open a stationary store). One thing I have is 55 photo albums of his life with his ex-wife... mean nothing to me, but he was so anal about cataloguing them, I can't do anything with them.
DeleteThree days after my husband died suddenly of a heart attack, I had to take all of his clothes and shoes out of our closet. I couldn't walk into the closet and see his clothes knowing that he was gone. My grief and shock literally took my breath away. Seeing his clothes and personal items were like being stabbed in the heart with a sharp object. I asked my daughters to box his things up and put them in the back of his truck. I've been on this journey for two years and the pain is still with me. I will never be the same until we're together again.
ReplyDeleteI also went through our closet the week after my husband died in his sleep. I have one under-the-bed container that holds the shirts and jacket that means the most to me. At 14 months it seems harder than at 2 months.
ReplyDeleteThat's something I love about this blog and the comments - we get to see the diversity of coping strategies that we employ to just get through, so it's easy to find a post of comment that lets you realise you're not going crazy as there's someone just like me, and none of us are doing the 'wrong thing'.
ReplyDeleteTo Anonymous who responded at 3:24 PM, I found the second year to be harder than the first. As I posted, my husband died of a heart attack in his sleep. The shock that I was in kept me numb for at least a year. I functioned and handled all those goes with the death process, but I was on auto-pilot. I found the second year to be worse than the first year. The majority of our friends are gone and some of my family don't want to hear about my pain. I'm supposed to "turn the page" and "deal with my new normal." So, I smile and pretend that I'm okay and not crying inside. The reality of this loneliness without the love of my life is more than I can bear at times. I'm at 2-1/2 years and I still cry and ask why.
ReplyDeleteThat's how it is for me, too, some days I can't bear to part with things, others I wonder why am I keeping that? I'll be listing my house in the spring, so these next few months will be lots of purging. I even plan to go through some things I have already packed, the boxes have been sitting in my den and I can't remember what is even in them. I am almost 4 years out, it seems to have taken so long to get here, and some days I feel back at square one. I just keep doing the next thing, some days I am motivated, others days I sit in a puddle of tears. It will take as long as it takes to move forward, I'm just trying to show up each day. Good luck to all in your decision making, it doesn't come easy. But it's a lot easier than what we've already been through.
ReplyDeleteOh, Cathy, how I can relate to this! Although I'd gotten rid of most of my husband's clothes in the weeks after he died, purging the house in preparation for listing it and getting ready to downsize to a two-bedroom condo was an enormous task.
DeleteAnd my Steve as a pack-rat. I mean he had papers his father had written decades ago, his own papers, books enough to open a store. And of course, we'd bought things together over the years, enough to fill a house. Sorting through everything was like taking a series of painful trips down memory lane - I'd reliably end up in tears.
I'm usually very organized, but I was so emotional, I couldn't think clearly anymore. Simple decisions eluded me. I had to get rid of things, had to decide what to pack early and what to leave out until the last minute. My "executive functions" ground to a halt. I was just so worn down and frazzled. To top it off, I have health issues that made some of the physical work of moving boxes around impossible.
For me, the solution was to hire outside help. My grief counselor suggested it; she knew someone who's a professional organizer. I thought those folks just wanted to re-do your closets, but this one was willing to be a project manager and be someone I could think with. Best decision I ever made, and worth the cost. She wasn't prey to the emotions and had good ideas about where to take things - and a van in which to take them away. Together, we got organized and got it done.
No, it wasn't easy, but as you point out, it's easier than what we've already been through. Take your time - and all the help you can get.
6 months and I cant touch my husbands things. I havent slept in our bed or touched any of his things. I cant do it. I've tried so many times to try and move back to our room, but I just cant do it. I feel like a freak. Like something is wrong with me, but every time I try to go a move sonething of his i'm overwhelmed with grief.
ReplyDeleteYou're not a feak - you're living with your grief the best way you know how, and are able to manage. Hugs.
DeleteIt has been 2 years and 8 mths for me. I couldn't remove my husband's things until 1 and 1/2 years after. I took pictures of his clothes in the closet to remember how they looked. I packed them up and put them in the spare bedroom for 6 months, then moved them to the garage where they are now. I want to give them away and I'm working on that, along with his golf clubs and workshop which consumes the entire garage.
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