#her things

[widowerthoughts]

Off and on

I find myself torn when it comes to Laura's stuff. Still. Nearly two and a half years since she died. I cleared out a whole massive amount of her clothes a couple of weeks ago, and feel fine about it. I got on a little spree and pulled out half of our board games to donate or sell with effectively no guilt earlier tonight. I bumped her pillows off the bed a few minutes ago and immediately had to pick them up and get them back into place. I don't leave her pillows there because of magical thinking. I'm not trying to preserve the scene so that it's ready for her to come back. I'm preserving it because I'm uncomfortable with the visible emptiness I'd see without the pillows there. I kept a few of her shirts in the closet so that I don't have to see an empty wall there too. I know that the items themselves in many cases aren't what I'm trying to preserve. I'm holding onto things because they come with memories attached, and I feel better holding those memories close. But it seems like I can reduce the number of items sometimes as long as I keep a category there. I can get rid of some of her clothes, because I'm keeping some of her clothes. I can get rid of some of the games, because I'm keeping the games that were more important. The pictures of everything help, but they're not enough maybe. Maybe they're just not enough yet. Maybe they'll never be enough. I don't really know, it's hard to tell. I can say, though, that I missed Laura severely over and over again today. Nothing dramatic or bad happened, but the little instances of loneliness just kept appearing, and her absence just kept continuing.

[widowerthoughts]

The closet

Making a second pass through her clothes has been ok so far. I don't like it, but it seems that the pass I made a year and a half ago already got the things that had the strongest memories attached to them. I'm somewhat ok with letting go of most of what I've come across so far. Piles of pants, tank tops, t shirts, but not the ones that I really care about. It's still uncomfortable to go through it though, and after twenty or thirty minutes, I was getting jittery and a little bit frail, and had to give it up for the night. I looked for comfort but couldn't come up with much.

[widowerthoughts]

Remainders

I'm making my way through the boxes of dialysate finally. It's been around twelve years since there wasn't a wall covered in boxes of it, always a big supply at the ready. So I've been draining the bags, stacking and bundling their safety bags, trucking the whole array out to the garbage, bit by bit. There were thirty seven boxes there still. Thirty seven times six bags each, times two kilos each, means I'm clearing out around 470 kilos, right around 1000 pounds, in one big maneuver. But I'm doing it the same way I always have, essentially. I carry a bag in where it's being used, dump a few others off nearby, with a heavy thud as each one hits. I rip open the outer bag, with its loud crinkling noise. It's thick plastic, same as milk jugs. I stack that outer bag with some others, trying to make it easy to clean up later. I yank apart the tubes attached to the hanging bag, all partially stuck together for shipment. Eventually, I pull off the rubber cap on the end of the tube with a loud, sharp pop, break the little plastic valve between my fingers, break another valve at the top in the same way, and listen to the bag dribbling into the drain. How many thousands and thousands of times have I done those steps before? Draining Laura's bags day after day. I installed the utility sink here specifically for that, actually, and had her bouncing with joy at the gesture. How many times did I do parts of that same process to set her up for an exchange? So many times I'd throw a few bags on the IV pole for her so she wouldn't have to go get them later. So many times I'd get them mostly set up just to be nice. Sometimes fast and angrily, to help her get together before we went out somewhere. Sometimes carefully and quietly so I wouldn't wake her up, but she'd have supplies ready when she did. All of the times she was in the hospital, and she'd proudly have me take care of her exchanges instead of the nurses. I wasn't going anywhere anyway, and I was happy to help make sure she was properly taken care of. Hundreds of times I set things up for her. Hundreds of times I carried in the half ton monthly delivery. Thousands and thousands of times I undid the blue clips, drained the bags, took out the trash. Thousands and thousands of times she did all of that and more. And now, I'm clearing it out. This will be the last time I take care of her dialysate. The last runs filling the trash bin. The last pile of sturdy Baxter boxes to flatten and put away somewhere. Of course. Of course the bags of fluid don't have any reason to stay. Of course the sentimentality attached to them is related to illness rather than joy. But everything attached to her carries joy too, and it still hurts to end another tradition.

[widowerthoughts]

Writer’s block

I haven't written any new material about Laura through her objects for a while now. I just kind of hit a patch where it was hard to write, and never got back to it. I had a couple hundred entries, so part of it is that I don't want to be redundant. She was too colorful to retell stories. Part of me feels like I used up all the best ones early in the blog. I'm sure there are still good ones, realistically. There were more than 250 good things about Laura. But I haven't figured out how to write them. Maybe I should again.

[blindmouse]

bmouse what are your thoughts on serendipity? i'm weeping and i need to commiserate with a jimin person and u articulate things so well. just OMG.

Hi! Oh man, I watched it when I was so asleep first thing this morning, mostly startled because I was thinking last night that it was two weeks so we might get teaser pics, but I forgot about how they do comeback trailers for the intro songs. So I was just kind of … this is … why is this a whole song? why is it just Jimin?? what? Lolol. So I have to rewatch it tonight when I’m more awake. It’s not Boy Meets Evil, but all of the Jimin being soft with bare feet and cats and things is obviously super appealing, and I’m delighted that he got the Intro this time around, go Jiminie. The song is really lovely, his voice is gorgeous, I’m listening to it again now. And I like the lyrics - which I’m told Namjoon wrote? ty Joons. Those stutters and the calico cat, and the sort of vulnerability and suggestion of submissiveness/responsiveness (When you call me, I am your flower.) If this comeback really is going to be an album of pop love songs, this one makes me hopeful that the gender/power dynamics might not be too standard and predictable. Anyway you should tell me more of the things you love about it, I’m here for all the excitement about this trailer!

[widowerthoughts]

Joy reflected

It's odd how thoroughly ingrained she is into my thinking. About everything. How immediately I apply her to whatever topic happens to be crossing my eyes, on my mind, whatever. I thought about going to a celebrity softball game earlier today. Just to kill time, mostly, but I also happen to like most of the celebrities who were there. Seahawks, mostly. But I couldn't bring myself to do it alone. I'm strong enough to go out, but the joy of that event wouldn't have been there. The joy of an event like that came entirely from her. I basked in its reflection as she enjoyed celebrities, comedians, characters. I might have a little joy of my own, but not enough, by a long shot, to warrant a solo trip. I was reading an article about the Kondo method. Some sort of craze sweeping the country, where women purge their life of junk. The new trick is that this one is almost philosophical. You aren't specifically trying to reduce by sheer quantity, you instead hold each item in your hands and determine if it brings you joy. If it does, you keep it. If it doesn't, you earnestly thank the item for its service and get rid of it. I've been going through things around the house off and on for months now. I actually have a similar method as it happens, which is how the article immediately turns my mind to Laura. As I find an object stored away, I spend a moment remembering stories around it, where we got it, what we did with it. And deciding if I feel better keeping it. Usually I do. The objects don't necessarily bring me joy. Not right now. But they bring me thoughts of Laura, and thoughts of Laura bring me joy. A little bit of it, anyway. I hold out some hope that I'll be able to find real joy in them later, so I hold onto the objects for now, waiting for the misery to lighten up just a little bit so that the joy is available someday.

[widowerthoughts]

Hard

Trying to be good to other people is hard. Even for people that I care about. My mother hasn't been doing great since my dad died, three years ago. Even worse since Laura died last year now. But while I know that she needs help around the house, or just moral support and someone to talk to, I'm mostly unavailable. I don't have the wherewithal to bother going up to help much, I don't have the emotional energy to talk on the phone for more than a few minutes. I can hear how lonely she is when she talks, but I've got a sort of caring fatigue most of the time. Still. Nonetheless I went up and helped her for most of the day today, rearranging the livingroom and hanging pictures and setting up a new tv. I found and hung up a painting that my father bought her, and she broke down. She loves the painting, but it hurts to have a reminder of my dad around and so visible. Things have the power to hurt us. There's plenty of good memory tied up in things as well, but every damn day, whether I'm actively going through Laura's things or not, something in the house catches my eye, brings back a memory, a sense of her, and makes me smile. And hurts.