Sorting Out Painful and Positive?

About a year ago my wife suggested it was time to sort the loft space. Her cancer overtook our plans but prompted by a desire to make the best of a wet day I got stuck in. As a result I have distilled our junk into a number of memory boxes- me , Pat and the kids . Adding to Pat’s memory box was a roller coaster of emotions - pain but many happy memories. 24 hours later I felt emotionally drained and had a good think .
My thoughts were random but making her box of the really significant bits & pieces and ditching old receipts, statements and correspondence has created something special that I can always find. More importantly it has filled some of my emotional void. She wanted me to get on with my life and physically shedding the junk to make a box of celebrations and joint experiences, seems to have helped me look forward more positively.
Am I reading to much into this? I don’t know but would be pleased to hear experiences of other members of ‘The Club that nobody wants to join’ have had with sorting out.

Hi Bobt

Well done to you for achieving so much. My husband died in October and I have been thinking about sorting things out. I made a start at New Year with his clothes - put them in bags - but still haven’t managed to take them to the Charity Shop. Emotionally I am still all over the place. Each night I vow I will get on with things tomorrow but I just can’t seem to do it. I want to sort out our photos and other important things but I keep procrastinating. I was pleased you said it filled an emotional void. I know I definitely need to do it. Maybe tomorrow.

Yvonne

It is not easy but I found that Pat’s clothes distressed me because I would never see her in them again. Once gone I felt that my memories of happy times were easier to find in my heart. Clothes are clothes it was the person we cherish
Good Luck - bit by bit :slight_smile:

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I too have made a memory box. Well it’s a trunk actually. I saw it in a shop and knew it was perfect. It’s one of those old fashioned trunks with pictures of steamer ships for long voyages. It spoke to me. I’ve put in things precious to both of us. His baseball cap he loved to wear, the cups and trophies he won. Our wedding photos, the Christmas card I sent to him this Christmas even though I knew he wouldn’t read it, all the cards that were sent when he died, the memory book from his funeral signed by everyone. It’s given me a lot of comfort. I can’t touch his clothes or shoes yet, even though it’s now eighteen months. Somehow that’s too final to do. It means he’s really gone doesn’t it? I like to see his dressing gown hanging next to mine and his clothes in our wardrobe and his t shirts in the airing cupboard.
I hope you get as much comfort from your memory box and I hope it brings you peace.

Thanks -moving the physical to my shared space in my emotions was the next step to acceptance. Good Luck