Don't Call it a Shrine (Living with a Loved One's Things)

"What do I do with their things?" is one of the biggest dilemmas faced by those who have lost loved ones. At first, it might feel sacrilege to give anything away, or change anything about their closet or room. After a while, there's this growing pressure to do something. But do what? And when? How long is too long to keep things just the way they were? How soon is too soon to change them?

The answer is... there is no answer. It's up to the individual, and what feels right.

After my late husband Kaz died, I made the unusual move of immediately giving away some his belongings to friends and family. If someone asked for something, I gave it to them without question, and without really thinking about it.

I saw his possessions as little pieces of him, and at the time, I saw giving his things away like spreading him around, seed-like. Later, I wished I had waited and thought about it a little more, but there was no going back. And there was still A LOT of stuff left.

In the years that followed, I gave away more things - some that he had specifically bequeathed, others that I thought he would want certain people to have. For example, he had drawn several designs for a "Mom" tattoo that he never actually got. I framed the drawings and sent them to his mother on her birthday.

I tried to give his favorite clothes (especially his favorite shoes) to people I knew, but I still ended up with several shopping bags, some of which I gave to Goodwill.

Most people were supportive of my decisions, but a couple people expressed dismay. They didn't deter me. In general, I tuned out the naysayers and drama-makers while I was grieving, and still do to this day.

Of course, I didn't give everything away. I kept the things that meant the most to me, things that reminded me of Kaz and embodied his energy. I still have clothing, books, artwork, music, films and knick-knacks that belonged to Kaz... some of which I keep in my home office, behind my chair. I call it Kaz's Corner.

When I Skype with people, this is what they see in the background.

Kaz's corner in morning light

The opposite side of the office, my desk area, looks like this.

That framed motorcycle print is the one that Kaz had up in his office, and the Yohimbe Brothers album cover to the left was on the bathroom wall in our old apartment.

On the shelf below are more of his things, as well as my mother's. She was an artist, so I'm lucky to have things that she made, including artwork and pottery. Below is a mug that I use to drink tea, and (in the background) a bowl that I use to hold pens. Her artwork is in every room.

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While there are things that belonged to Kaz and my mom all over the house, my office holds the highest concentration. This is where I want their spirits around me the most - the place where I'm the most creative and do my best thinking.

It's no surprise that the office is my favorite room. It's where I feel the most like me. It's  private and warm. In it, I feel protected, loved and safe... which gives me the wherewithall to write and live courageously.

This year I'm taking on a new job and a lot of new responsibilities, while at the same time exploring deeper issues in my writing. I'm grateful to have this safe space, where my muses and guardian angel spirits keep me company.

Please share how you have incorporated your loved one's things into your daily life. I think it helps people to know how others deal with this.