Widows & Widowers Support Group
This community is dedicated to those who have lost a husband, wife, or partner. Anything is open for discussion here, with the hope that we can focus on grief, bereavement, life after loss, and continuing on after a great loss.
It's been 7 weeks now. There are times I walk aimlessly through the house, opening cupboards and drawers looking for bits of David.
In our bedroom, I pulled open his sock drawer. It was empty! It gave me a shock! Where are all his socks? Intellectually, I know where they are. I gave most of them away to the hospital after he died. Along with his shirts and slippers. There are folks in long-term care that have no family. No one to buy them new clothes when theirs wear out or don't fit anymore.
The rest of the socks, David's son took in the early weeks. He was staying with us (me,but I still say us), going through his Dad's things (which I had told him to do). He lives far away and had only a week or so to do this.
At the time, I thought it was strange that he wanted his dad's socks, but then I have a pair of warm, purple socks of my mothers, that I do wear in the winter.
T-shirt drawer is still full. Sweaters folded neatly in another drawer (why oh why did I wash everything? I wish his clothes had a lingering smell of him, so I could inhale it at night before bed). But where are his socks? What if he needs them? It's so hard, this "letting go" process.
In our bedroom, I pulled open his sock drawer. It was empty! It gave me a shock! Where are all his socks? Intellectually, I know where they are. I gave most of them away to the hospital after he died. Along with his shirts and slippers. There are folks in long-term care that have no family. No one to buy them new clothes when theirs wear out or don't fit anymore.
The rest of the socks, David's son took in the early weeks. He was staying with us (me,but I still say us), going through his Dad's things (which I had told him to do). He lives far away and had only a week or so to do this.
At the time, I thought it was strange that he wanted his dad's socks, but then I have a pair of warm, purple socks of my mothers, that I do wear in the winter.
T-shirt drawer is still full. Sweaters folded neatly in another drawer (why oh why did I wash everything? I wish his clothes had a lingering smell of him, so I could inhale it at night before bed). But where are his socks? What if he needs them? It's so hard, this "letting go" process.
i still have all of his things just as he left them.
i miss his smell,shortly after he died i did the laundry & now i wish i had left a shirt or pair of socks to lay under my pillow.
Hugs,
Sharon
Cie