A Smiling Young Widow

I was a traveling widow again this month, gone for just over two weeks. I was really ready to get home by the end. That is weird for me, a shift that’s happened since Tom died. When we first started dating Tom said we were both kind of gypsies, he was on the road tons for work back then and I was always taking off somewhere. I have been reflecting again on finding balance in my new reality of not spending too much time at home alone, but not spending too much time away either.

I read the book “The Magical Year of Thinking” by Joan Didion, a memoir of the year after her husband suddenly died. One of the pieces that stuck with me is how she described the need to stay at home. She talked about how she struggled with donating her husband’s shoes, because he was going to come back home at some point and then he would need those shoes.

I really relate to this. It is a weird thing where you do rationally know your person isn’t coming back, but it’s like your whole system can’t believe that. They are going to need something to wear on their feet with they come back. Just today I picked up my phone to text Tom something. It’s ridiculous really. I wonder if it will ever actually sink in that he is gone for good? Probably not.

Most of Tom’s “things” still remain in our house. It was probably a month after he died that I first unpacked his work bag, putting his clothes and toiletry kit right back where they belonged. Then several months later I cleared out some of our clothes, donating just as many of my things as his. Funny story – when we moved into our new house I was convinced we didn’t need a dresser anymore. I told Tom let’s just enjoy the extra space, we have this big closet and it’ll be good to donate a bunch of clothes anyways. Tom was like hmm where else will we put it and don’t you think we might need it? Let’s just keep it for now and see. Well a few months later I realized the dresser had slowly been filled entirely with MY things! Tom had ONE drawer of socks! We laughed about that. He did really always know best. So yeah, you can see why I felt I needed to donate my clothes just as much as Tom’s.

I’m thankful I haven’t been in a position where I had to pack up and move. Deciding to give away any of Tom’s things is something I can do super slowly, and it might not really have an end point. Nothing particularly sentimental has moved from our house yet, unless it has been handed off to someone else to treasure. My first load of clothes to donate was like Costco shirts I’d bought Tom, high vis work stuff, and pants (The ones that weren’t full of holes – man this guy never bought himself anything that wasn’t for an outdoor activity! There had been a point where he’d self reflected it was time to toss a few old T-shirts that had holes in both armpits, but one from a 1998 martial arts competition was still in regular rotation.)

I actually did donate quite a few shoes, because Tom only really wore a few pairs. His hiking boots still sit at the front door and likely will for a while. I did donate some winter coats and warm gear. I think that has helped with the process just a bit, when there are things other people need it is just silly to keep them and Tom would tell me the same. Some of Tom’s hunting gear I’ve passed along, knowing it means more for it still to be used by Tom’s friends rather than hanging up in our basement. I have kept a fair bit of camo-wear for myself too though.

Pictures of Tom are still everywhere in the house, there are actually more up now than when he died. I previously shared about how helpful hearing Dr. Allan Wolfelt speak was. One of the things I took from him was permission that there actually is no rush to get rid of someone’s things after they die. We shouldn’t take down evidence that our person lived. It can be helpful for our healing to embrace the memories and all that is held in physical things. Loved ones that die are a part of our lives forever – it’s not like throwing away deodorant or clearing out a sock drawer is going to magically heal us up.

I’ll finish with a note that despite writing about “The Magical Year of Thinking” here, I actually really did not like how it was written and wouldn’t recommend the book. Though it is on a bestsellers list. I kept waiting for the “magic” and can’t actually believe I finished it, albeit it there was a lot of skimming.

What Tom would say? It mustn’t have been a very accessible book! Tom was an impressive reader, and he could focus in on books that I would struggle with or would never even attempt. Like one vacation when he was reading War and Peace by the pool. Then there was the time he had read 12 Rules for Life, and I felt like I should be getting in on the controversy. So I tried to read it, I really did. Eventually I switched books. Tom had been reading something else, maybe it was Michelle Obama’s book? Whatever it was I told him I’d like to read that one when he was done and Tom agreed, “Yeah this one is an accessible read”. I was all offended and he chortled away, though it really was true. I managed to get through some dry reads for school, but on my own time I need nice accessible books! I recently came across the 12 Rules for Life book again – Tom liked to buy books and would write where he was when he started reading one – it’s super special to see his little scribbles now.