I started sifting through some of my mom's things, just a few surface envelopes and various items that were on top of her bedside table, and I came across about 20 Get Well cards that her coworkers had written to her when she was in the hospital. I started reading them, and I just froze. I mean, what do I do with them? Throw them out? I don't know, there's so much I need to do, and I'll be handling far more emotionally charged issues when I go through, say, family photos, but... I mean, when am I going to be able to face this?
Her room was just closed up and ignored after she died. I couldn't bring myself to do all the cleaning and sorting and and boxing after she died. Today I opened the windows to let some fresh air in and unmade her bed, stopped to sniff a pillow to see if I could pick up some scent of her, but all I got was a nose full of dust. It hurts a lot to have to approach someone's life in this way. Like it's something inconvenient and cluttered that needs to be disassembled and thrown out.
