It was just a dirty old work truck, it had its day. But it was his dirty old work truck. I wasn’t even fond of it, it smelled of stale cigarettes and work boots, the doors creaked and the seats were ripped. It sure as hell didn’t warrant a parking spot on the driveway anymore. I don’t know why I felt so bad to see it being towed away. Just another piece of the past – gone.
We are working our way through a lot of stuff, a lifetime’s worth. It’s tough. His clothes are gone – I was afraid to let them hang around for long. I fear I may have packed them up too quickly. When my mother passed away, years ago, none of us could bear the thought of going through her things right away – we left her stuff exactly where she’d put it, for seven years. My Dad lived in a house that looked like Mom was just out for lunch – for seven years. I didn’t want that to happen to me. So the clothes, like the truck, are gone.
Everywhere I look is another memory, another reminder that he is gone. And that is heartbreaking. I have no desire to wipe this slate clean, to erase the evidence of our life together, but neither do I want to turn this house into a shrine. The house is ours, the furniture in it feels like it belongs to the house – it was purchased for it. The nick nacks, the photos, the clutter – are another story. I was always the collector, the stuff-liker, he bought a lot of the clutter for me, because I liked it. All the Mickey’s, the Minnies, the china birds, the art, all the atmosphere that makes our house our home was a gift from him, to me – it speaks of us, it speaks to me. Another memory, another reminder that he was here. And that is comforting.
These are confusing days, there is so much to sort through, so much to decide. The truck had to go, so did the clothes, but now what? There are decisions to be made but I don’t feel like I’m ready to make them – this still feels like a really bad dream, like I should be waking up in the morning and everything will be as it was. But I won’t, and it won’t. This is it.
He is gone, and now so are his clothes and his truck. How much gone is gone enough?
Comments (4)
I can’t imagine!
Herman’s truck and his clothes are gone…with him, so he’s gone enough for now….the biggest part of how much gone is gone enough left with Herman’s passing….I think the stuff that holds the memories help us grieve…trigger our grief …but like you say also comfort us for now… but there will come a time in this next chapter where you may choose to share these memories with your family by giving pieces of your stuff to them, so the memories of you both will be spread throughout your family – it’s your legacy and so wonderful that you have these memories to share….but not now, when he’s gone enough.
So sad for you Elva: give yourself time before making too many decisions.❤️
Its good that you are getting all this stuff out but I’m sure it is as hard to write as it is hard to read. Love you .