Holding on?

My Husband and I moved in August 2021, and I used that opportunity to have a good clear out. We lived there for just over 2 years and the amount of stuff we’d accumulated in that time was mad.

A few nights ago, I wasn’t sleeping (nothing new there), and I found myself remembering a set of roasting dishes I had given my sister. I’d never used them, they were still in the packaging - but Mum had brought them. Immediately I was panicking. Should I have kept them? She brought them for me, it was a piece of her and I handed them over without thinking. It taunted me for most the night, and I felt so reckless and stupid.

This sense of clinging onto things isn’t a new one, and I know it’s irrational, but it haunts me. I struggle to even depart with clothes she chose or brought me. My rational brain can usually take over and remind myself that a roasting dish isn’t the only way to honour and remember her, but those seconds of uncertainty are just so heart-wrenching.

My Husband worked with my mum, and after she died he was given the contents of her drawers. In it, were her work shoes. You’d think a pair of plain black heels would be insignificant, but they were so shattering to me. They were a real piece of her. They were scuffed from her walking around in them and you could see the print of her foot on the insole - it felt like a true piece of her. Something to say she was here, a mark that she had left behind. I can’t bring myself to ever look at them. They’re at the bottom of a trunk I’ve filled with picture albums, but I can’t help but wonder (Carrie Bradshaw? Is that you?) if I’ll cling on to them forever? They’re so ugly I’m certain she’d rather kept a nicer shoe - but these feel so intimate.

I have a drawer full of her pyjamas I stole from her over the years. I wear them when I need to feel close to her, but what will happen if they fall apart? If they stop fitting? If my husband fucks them up in the wash? Am I setting myself up for a fail by clinging on to them?

It’s a minefield.

Ultimately, I’m afraid that one day - I’ll look around and realise there’s no trace of her left, and it’ll be like she was never here.