Don’t Call it a Shrine (Living with a Loved One’s Things)

“What do I do with their things?” is one of the biggest dilemmas faced by those who have lost loved ones. At first, it might feel sacrilege to give anything away, or change anything about their closet or room. After a while, there’s this growing pressure to do something. But do what? And when? How long is too long to keep things just the way they were? How soon is too soon to change them?

The answer is… there is no answer. It’s up to the individual, and what feels right.

After my late husband Kaz died, I made the unusual move of immediately giving away some his belongings to friends and family. If someone asked for something, I gave it to them without question, and without really thinking about it.

I saw his possessions as little pieces of him, and at the time, I saw giving his things away like spreading him around, seed-like. Later, I wished I had waited and thought about it a little more, but there was no going back. And there was still A LOT of stuff left.

In the years that followed, I gave away more things – some that he had specifically bequeathed, others that I thought he would want certain people to have. For example, he had drawn several designs for a “Mom” tattoo that he never actually got. I framed the drawings and sent them to his mother on her birthday.

I tried to give his favorite clothes (especially his favorite shoes) to people I knew, but I still ended up with several shopping bags, some of which I gave to Goodwill.

Most people were supportive of my decisions, but a couple people expressed dismay. They didn’t deter me. In general, I tuned out the naysayers and drama-makers while I was grieving, and still do to this day.

Of course, I didn’t give everything away. I kept the things that meant the most to me, things that reminded me of Kaz and embodied his energy. I still have clothing, books, artwork, music, films and knick-knacks that belonged to Kaz… some of which I keep in my home office, behind my chair. I call it Kaz’s Corner.

When I Skype with people, this is what they see in the background.

Kaz’s corner in morning light

The opposite side of the office, my desk area, looks like this.

That framed motorcycle print is the one that Kaz had up in his office, and the Yohimbe Brothers album cover to the left was on the bathroom wall in our old apartment.

On the shelf below are more of his things, as well as my mother’s. She was an artist, so I’m lucky to have things that she made, including artwork and pottery. Below is a mug that I use to drink tea, and (in the background) a bowl that I use to hold pens. Her artwork is in every room.

mug made by my mom

While there are things that belonged to Kaz and my mom all over the house, my office holds the highest concentration. This is where I want their spirits around me the most – the place where I’m the most creative and do my best thinking.

It’s no surprise that the office is my favorite room. It’s where I feel the most like me. It’s  private and warm. In it, I feel protected, loved and safe… which gives me the wherewithall to write and live courageously.

This year I’m taking on a new job and a lot of new responsibilities, while at the same time exploring deeper issues in my writing. I’m grateful to have this safe space, where my muses and guardian angel spirits keep me company.

Please share how you have incorporated your loved one’s things into your daily life. I think it helps people to know how others deal with this.

 

 

 

Dealing With a Loved One’s Things

In anticipation of the big move, I’ve begun to sell some of my stuff. Smaller items so far: DVDs, CDs, books, shoes, clothes, etc. Soon I will sell the larger items: bed, couch, entertainment unit, etc. I want to travel as light as possible, and I don’t have any emotional attachment to things. I never have actually, with a few exceptions: my mother’s watercolors, a ceramic mug she made, a wooden cutting board (shaped like a pig) that my brother made when he was 11, a wooden step stool that he made when he was 14, and a small piece of art by my sister.

Other than those few sentimental items, my computer, journals, clothes and several books, I couldn’t care less about much else in the apartment — unless it belonged to my late husband.

Kaz was very attached to his things and, not surprisingly, had a lot of really interesting stuff. His things represented who he was — or rather what his interests were. If you didn’t know him personally, you could tell a lot about him just from his collection of books, music, clothes and artwork. For example, you could tell that he liked heavy metal and rap music, tattoos, graphic novels and comic books. You could tell that he loved Pam Grier, the blaxploitation era, certain television shows, science fiction and chess. You could also tell that he had an appreciation for voluptuous women and alcohol (he collected shot glasses and flasks).

When I redecorated the apartment shortly after he died (because I wanted to stay here but not have it look exactly the same), I kept most of these things around to both represent and remind me of him.

I also gave some of his things away to his family and friends almost immediately. I had this overwhelming urge for people to have a ‘piece’ of him, as represented by a belt, a pair of his beloved Nike sneakers (he had dozens), a t-shirt, a sweatshirt, a DVD he loved, or his favorite hat. I gave his small collection of toy cars to my brother to give to his two little boys, who were 5 and 3 at the time. My brother later told me that before he gave them the cars, he explained to them where the toy cars came from, and why they were receiving them. The boys were so moved by the story of the man who had gotten sick and died young that they cried.

But what I gave away was only a small fraction of what Kaz owned. Now, three years later, on the eve of leaving the apartment and starting anew, I am facing the dilemma of what to do with the remaining items.

Do I pack and ship everything to his family? That would be extremely time-consuming and expensive (but I probably will end up doing with certain things).

Do I give stuff away to his friends and/or Goodwill?

Do I sell things? This feels like the most practical and fastest, but also the most controversial.

There are some things I know for sure I’ll take with me, mostly artwork, books, a bicycle, his motorcycle gear, two heavy glass tumblers (for drinking scotch) –  and, yes, maybe the shot glass collection. Everything else, I’m not sure.

Like I said, I have never been one to place much importance on things. But dealing with someone else’s things is different, especially if those things were important to them. I just don’t know how long to hang onto stuff. I also worry that if I get rid of too much, I’ll have nothing left of him. It’s a tough call all around.

Have you dealt with this issue? How did you handle your loved one’s things?

What would you want your surviving spouse to do with your things?