Finding Comfort in Words, Not Possessions
I have been in spring-cleaning mode all the way through summer.
After my mom died four years ago, our family kept our house like a museum. I don’t mean that things were neatly organized and everything was nicely displayed. I mean that all my mom’s items were left exactly where they were. Grocery lists still hung on the refrigerator. We gave away only a couple of her clothes, but anything that I remembered her wearing or still had a faint scent from her perfume was stuffed in my drawers. To make more room, I even used some of those plastic bags that you stuff and vacuum out the air.
Having two wardrobes in just a couple drawers and a tiny closet was a recipe for clothes spilling out of drawers and constant piles of garments on my bed. Getting ready in the mornings was stressful and seeing the mess when getting ready for bed was exhausting. I had put up with the mess because they were my mom’s clothes and each item was a piece of her.
After reading a blog that talks about living life minimally, it was time to take inventory of what I owned and to give things away. There were two piles: “Goodwill” and “things I just can’t get rid of.” With every piece of cloth I told myself that this would make someone else really happy. Once things were sorted, I went back to the pile of “things I couldn’t get rid of.”
After staring at the pile of clothes, I had come to see that this was just a pile of clothes. These items were not my mom.
It was the memory of her wearing them that I was afraid of losing. Possessing these items did not bring me comfort or happiness, it brought stress and disorganization. For items that I had a hard time getting rid or that did not serve a practical purpose, I took a picture of it then gave it away.
My next task was clearing off the family computer. It had been a couple years since we turned on the big, beige monitor that sat in the corner collecting dust. After starting the computer up, on the desktop was a file titled “Mom.” There were over a dozen word document files inside. Some of the files were our old Christmas lists and a log of some of the uncomfortableness my mom wrote about while she was going through radiation. But then I found one letter that I will cherish forever. In this letter I read my mom talking about death and the acceptance of her condition. After reading it I sat at the computer crying. No amount of clothes or materialistic items can bring me the same amount of comfort than reading words that had been typed from my mom about the subject of death.
When someone we love very much dies, we want to keep everything they own. And as time goes on, we slowly give their items away. I think it’s healthy when we allow ourselves and others to clear things away at our own pace. For me, stumbling upon that letter means so much more now than if I had gone through the files a couple years ago.
We will never forget our loved ones. But how much of these items are holding us back from making room for new memories with family and friends who are still alive today?
What words will you leave behind for your loved ones?
37 Comments
Laren,
Thank You for sharing such a beautiful story. I can’t begin to imagine what you and your family have gone through. I thank you for allowing us to enter into such a private and difficult experience.
Thanks Elsa for those kind words.
Lauren,
Wow, what a beautiful story. I am so very sorry for your loss and what you and your family went thru. I thank you for sharing this touching story, and showing us how you grieved. You are a beautiful writer, and I enjoy working with you each day!
Love ya
Shayna
Aww Shayna, thanks! I love working with you too
Hi Lauren –
My heart is heavy reading your blog, I find beauty in the deeper meaning of your relationship with your Mother. I would have a difficult time letting go of anything, even though I prefer to be a minimalist too. I am deeply grateful that we have become teammates in this life. Your life experience has been touching so many of the families we serve, you are here for a reason! The words I would like my family to remember, faith, hope and love. Love is he greatest gift we can share with each other. Once you have been loved by someone their memory will never fade. Namaste
Reading your comment put a smile on my face! Our love and spending time with each other are truly the greatest gifts we can give and receive. Thank you for sharing! Namaste.
Lauren, What a great blog! You are such an inspiration! Thank you for sharing this, I can relate to it a lot. My grandma died in 2005,she lived with us and was really a mother figure to everyone in my house, and my family just this year cleared out her clothes. I don’t know what made them do it, if it were up to me I probably wouldn’t have because they did smell like her! haha but you are right they are only possessions and not the person, they could be better used by someone who needs them.
Thanks Shasta! What a great gift that your grandma lived with you and your family and how you were constantly surrounded by her love and support. And what a powerful step your family took to let go of her clothes. Thanks for sharing!
Hi Lauren
Thank you for being willing to open up and share something so personal with us. I agree with what you said and felt. As you know and are experiencing – grief is a journey and is filled with many lessons along that journey (if we are willing to learn them). Thank you for sharing with us one of the lessons learned along your grief journey. It is so hard to lose your Mother. It is an ache that never seems to go away. So my heart is sad for you and your family. It seems like a family is never the same when the Mother (in particular) dies. She truly is the “heart of the home”.
Thank you Sharon! Yes, there are lots of lessons to be learned and some more difficult to learn than others. I really appreciate your kind words!