From Maria Shriver:
"When a person dies, it’s the stuff that’s left behind that’s so difficult for us to part with. Parents who have lost children keep rooms as shrines, never to be touched — never to be disturbed. Books line shelves, stuffed animals sit on beds, hair clips and brushes are left where they were last placed by the deceased. Strands of hair intertwined in the bristles, containing DNA from their loved one. A sign of life where life no longer exists. The stuff is our touchstone. Getting rid of it entails a separate and equally painful grieving process. A funeral for our stuff. On my last pass through my parents’ house, I was forced to discard most of my childhood memories. Shipping them from Michigan to California would be costly, and there simply wasn’t any room for them in my house. So there they went, into Hefty bags — my Crissy doll and Barbies, my pig collection and ads I wrote from my first job. And my childhood mattress. All were pulled out to the curb for the garbage men to take away the following day...Stuff is filled with the souls of the people who touched it. There’s no doubt about that. What we need to learn is that letting go of things doesn’t have to mean letting go of the memory of the person who possessed them."
Our Stuff Is Filled With the Souls of Those Who Touched It: Mourning the Loss of People and Things
You have come to the right place, and we are glad you are here. This is a safe place to share stories of love and loss, devastating grief, exhausting care-giving, memorials, advanced directives, mourning, hope, and despair. We want to hear about about what you wish you had known or done differently, what you wish those around you had known or done differently, and what went right. We will never tell you to move on or find closure. "What cannot be said will be wept." Sappho
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.