Stuff and Such
Last month I had a garage sale. My last garage sale was 10 years ago, and it was time to go through stuff again to lessen the load of things I no longer needed. After my husband suddenly died in 2018, I went through most of his things in the house, but not in the garage. Tools, camping gear, and collectibles were in unopened boxes in the rafters and in cupboards. As I opened boxes, a flood of memories of camping trips with my husband and children came to mind. Grief was waiting in the wings, always slyly standing by,
One item I had kept was my husband’s bicycle. He had it before we met, and it was a staple in our garage, hanging upside down from the rafters. It was just a thing, but the attachment was there because it was my husband’s. Grief appears to have tentacles.
As I looked around, I recognized that I kept all the stuff in the garage because it was my husband’s, not because I needed any of it. His bike, baseball hats, thermos, work shirts, and books, all of which allowed me to feel like I still had a connection with him. Strangely, it was like I checked a bag at the airport and got a ticket to claim my bag after my flight. But there would be no opportunity to retrieve my bag. The ticket was a permanent reminder of what I no longer had. The remnant surrounded me as I stood in the midst of my messy garage.
Creating an enduring connection with our loved one is part of the grief process. We each find our own unique way to keep them close. It’s what we do, holding onto things that are meaningful.
I gave my husband’s bike to someone who loves biking, and I kept a shirt and a hat that my husband wore. My connection with my husband isn’t just in stuff, but in the meaningful memories I carry with me as I move forward.