My mother passed away in March and in the beginning of June, John and I closed on our new house. I was lucky enough that I had some pretty amazing friends come over and not just help me move everything, but they went into my mother's bedroom and closet and packed everything up and put it all into boxes so that I wouldn't have to deal with sorting and organizing her clothing, bedding, linens, etc.
The hard part now is actually opening the boxes and going through everything. It has been about six months since she passed away, and I still haven't brought myself to the point where I can go through her things. I just keep organizing and re-organizing everything in hopes that it will all eventually fit into smaller spaces. Realistically I know that won't happen, but a girl can dream can't she?
I've been told that if I can't identify a box's contents by looking at the unopened box, then that means what is inside wasn't a necessity and that I should be able to just get rid of it. Of course, I don't think that's a good idea. I'm not a hoarder, but I'm also not the type to waste things that could have been used by someone.
Maybe the reason it's so hard for me to let go of everything is because I don't want to let go of my mother. Maybe because there are so many things I still want to say to her and can't. Maybe it's because I know I'll never hear her voice again, or see her face again. Maybe it's because I know I can't change anything that has already happened. Maybe it's because every time I think of her, I remember all of her sacrifice and I remember how long it had been since I said "thank you" to her for things she did for me, and advice she gave me when she knew I needed it without my having to ask.
According to Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, when we’re dying or have suffered a catastrophic loss, we all move through five distinct stages of grief. We go into denial because the loss is so unthinkable we can’t imagine it’s true. We become angry with everyone and angry with ourselves. Then we bargain. We beg. We plead. We offer everything we have, we offer our souls if we could in exchange for just one more day. When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally we have to accept that we’ve done everything we can. We let go. We let go and move into acceptance.
Right now, I'm in the angry stage. And it's not the same for everyone because I depict anger as more rage inclusive. I get so angry with myself that I cry. And I don't know how many tears I may have to cry before my body thinks it has been enough. I may never reach enough.
