One of the things I have learned through this journey called life is that there is an amazingly fine line between holding on to things that hold good memories and being a hoarder. When my father passed away over thirty years ago, while we had always considered my mother a “collector”, we quickly learned that that was not the case and that not only had she been a hoarder before she lost him, but that his passing created a whole new level of madness called “I can’t give that away”. As a result, ten years after my dad’s passing, when my mother had to enter an assisted living facility, we were faced with an overwhelming nightmare of STUFF. Most of it brought no joy or happy memories…just a headache of organization, decisions and disposal.

Just Because…

Before my beloved Tom passed away last year, he told me: “Betsy, just because I touched it, bought it, smelled it, sat on it, wore it or saw it…that does NOT mean you have to keep it”. Of course, we all know that everyone says that you shouldn’t make any major decisions for a year after a loss that carried the magnitude as ours, but since I was determined to honor another of his wishes, to leave Tennessee as soon as possible (we were getting out of there anyway) and move out west to be closer to our children and grandson, I found myself in a position where I HAD to decide what was meaningful and what was JUST STUFF.

Honoring His Compassion

The first thing we all think of after someone passes away is what to do with his or her clothing. For me, this was easy. I don’t mean it was easy to FACE giving things away, or to know that I had to…I mean it was easy to actually do it. First thing…find the items that were more than “stuff” – that held memories to which I wanted to cling. So, I chose a bunch of his T-Shirts, ranging from one I had from 1978 when we first met right through shirts representing every aspect of him (our horse, his time in the Tetons, scuba diving, his business, etc.) and had them made into a quilt. What better way to keep those shirts than to be able to wrap myself in them. Now that that was accomplished, I asked myself what HE would want me to do with the rest. He would never have wanted someone who was living in poverty or even on the streets to not have something to wear, even if it was just a pair of socks, while those items just sat in drawers or a closet…so out they all went to the local “help” center. Socks, shirts (of course I kept a few for me and my children), jeans, slacks, sweaters…everything. And I did all of this knowing it was the RIGHT thing to do.

Other “Stuff”

After a while you realize what is really, TRULY meaningful and what is just stuff. I started to downsize my possessions (I still have too much – this is an ongoing process that does not happen overnight, although it is becoming easier). Tom loved his workshop and all of his tools…after all, he was a contractor and designer and we all know you can never have enough miter saws, drills, impact drivers or screwdrivers, let alone hinges, cabinet handles or stain colors. So, I pretty much just kept a few indispensable tools, two items that had major sentimental value (yes, a tool can be sentimental – like the wood-handled drill of his dad’s) and sold or donated the rest. Yes, they all had meaning to him…No, I did not need them and someone else did.

“Must keeps” include photos, of course…but I took all of the slides and digitalized them. And I went through all of the old photo albums and where a picture had no meaning to me, or where I just didn’t care anymore, or where I couldn’t tell its story, I dumped it…that included three albums filled with photos of the mountains in Vietnam – those had meaning to him, not me…pictures of him with his buddies? All kept. Photos he had of family members whose identity were a mystery to me? gone.

The idea behind all of this was to honor Tom…to do what he asked me to do and not hoard things that, at the end of the day, had no real meaning or significance to my life or to the lives of my children. The other thing? My generation was a generation of collectors. We gathered stuff that we enjoyed at the time, but in today’s world, those things have, for the most part, no real value either financially or emotionally. Case in point – I always collected elephants. I have hundreds of them. They have been packed away since 2001 and I have not looked at a single once since. Going, going, gone! (of course, I might keep one or two 🐘)

The last few years before I lost him, Tom made me promise to not give him any gifts he had to dust, LOL – that meant…no more stuff! It is not easy to let go…but, like knowing what people or places are now a part of your past, understanding the importance of objects is also a huge part of the journey and of moving forward. Most of the stuff doesn’t matter…the memories do.

Besides…I hate dusting.