Yesterday I moved all of my husbands clothes out of our room. Even his socks and jocks. And I am proud of myself.
It will be five months this week since he passed. Until yesterday all of his things were as he had left them. I had tidied a little but I couldn't bring myself to move them. His toiletries are all still in the bathroom where he left them. His hat is still perched on top of my wine rack ready for him to grab it on the way to work. his side of the bedroom is still a mess as he left it. Very little has been moved at all. It was too painful to touch, much less move.
We have three boys and they will one day be big tall strong men like their dad. I decided that rather than get rid of all his clothes, I would simply put them all away and one day the boys can go through it all when they are men and choose what they want to keep. I had a brief discussion with one of them last week asking him how he felt about moving it all. He asked what other people did. When I mentioned donating them to charity, he was adamant that NO that was not what he wanted to have happen. So it ALL went into storage. The boys helped me. The man had a LOT of clothes!!!!!
After the clothes had been moved I then rearranged mine. There is so much more room in there now. It took me all day to sort through my clothes and do a cull, move his stuff out and then rearrange the room a little. At the end of the day I looked at what is becoming "my" room and I felt proud. Proud of myself. I am not at all sure if I "should" be feeling proud. Shouldn't I be feeling extra sad? But you know what, I don't. I didn't rush it, I didn't force it. I waited till it was time and then got on with the job. I think because I have postponed the getting rid of his clothes it softens the blow. Nothing has gone, it is just out of my way. The boys are happy with my decision and know exactly where it all is should they want something. It didn't all smell like him which was sad, but I think it helped as well. It was just a stack of clean clothes that one day will see the light of day again. It was sad. There were feelings of loss. Mostly though there was a strong sense that the time was right.
Yesterday was all about his clothes. There is still his side of the room with a whole cupboard full of his stuff, most of it just spread about haphazard; but he knew where everything was! There is also still the bathroom and a few other odds and ends around the house. Part of me wants to get stuck into that cupboard. I am excited now about making the room all pretty and "mine". I wont though. I will sit with it a bit longer until one day, I know the time will come to do the next step. Turns out that there will come a time. Turns out that if I let grief lead, I will be fine. There are times to cry and wail, there are times to get busy, there are times to remember and times to share with friends. One day, probably soon, it will be time to take the next step.