Friday, February 1, 2013

ALL MY MOM'S IMPORTANT STUFF AND LETTING GO

MY MOM'S SWEATER THAT SHE LOVED TO WEAR ALTHOUGH SHE LOVED
THE COLOR BLUE MORE THAN PINK
Last night I was going through my huge pile of clothes in my bedroom.  There were some big piles that needed to be put away for sometime now.  I've been telling myself I was going to do it everyday however I never get to it.  I never knew why I just let them sit out in my bedroom when they were taking up so much space and making the bedroom look so cluttered.

Last night I thought it was time for me to tackle the messed up piles of clothes and put them in their designated place in my drawers and closet.  As I put them in their piles on my bed I realized I was becoming more and more uncomfortable and wasn't sure why.  I thought it was partially because I was having to organize my clothes in different piles and this is always a challenge. Organization and myself do not make for good friends.  Well, after I had almost all the clothes put on the bed I came to realize what was underneath the piles of clothes was making me uncomfortable.  I sat on the bed and just starred at the bins that were filled with clothes.  I became frozen for a moment and then the sadness started to creep in.  All the memories I had about these clothes were starting to fill my eyes with tears and my mind with sorrow.  These clothes weren't my clothes but my Mom's.  They were folded nicely and filled up the bins to the top.  About 8 months ago I had washed all her clothes and put them in plastic bins.  I thought unrealistically, that I was going to keep all of them!  I couldn't part with any of them except for some that I gave to my sister. But I know now that this is not possible.

What I was hiding underneath my pile of clothes was my Mom's clothes and I didn't want to face the enormous emotional task of giving them away so I buried them with my clothes on top.  The thought of parting with her clothes is so emotional for me.  Each piece is like a treasured memory and a way of feeling closer to her and I didn't want to loose that so I put them in the bins and just let them sit there untouched.  I started taking some photos of them so I'd remember them always, however I realize now that the memories are not in the things but in my mind.  So, soon I will be parting with some of them.  I have to do it a little at a time to soften the impact it will have on me.  I know some people have trouble with this when they loose a loved one, so I understand that this is the normal grieving process but nevertheless, it is painful to do.  It feels as if I am parting with her piece by piece as each piece will leave my possession.  Realistically, I know that I can not keep all her clothes forever, so I am going to donate what I can, when I can.  I will keep a few things that really remind me of my Mom's spirit and charm.  I wanted to create some kind of quilt or blanket with some of her clothes, but I don't think I will be able to, so they will have to go at some point.  I am saddened by this whole process.
MOM'S SCRUB TOP.  SHE LOOKED LIKE A NURSE WHEN SHE WORE THIS.
SHE LOVED THIS TOP. TOO!
It's interesting how we humans want to save things for their sentimental value.  It's as if we are trying to stop time, freeze time so nothing changes.  Holding on to things is a way of feeling closer to someone and if they have passed away, that grip is even harder.  I have always been a collector of things.  I am somewhat of a pack rat and I save things that make me think of and feel the person who gave them to me.  The person and the things actually merge together and become one.  This is a biological trait of nesting and collecting that is deep in our DNA and then effected by our experiences and our environment.  When I was as little as two years old, I was a collector.  I carried a bag with handles and I would take things from the ground and put them in the bag.  I had chewing gum wrappers, chewed gum, dirt, leaves, paper, and things I can't even remember.  I carried a bag with handles, for most of my childhood.  During my teenage years, I was still collecting things in bags and filling them with stuff and storing them in my closet.  Eventually, I graduated to bins and containers to house my collection of art supplies, fabric and anything to make things out of.  Still to this day however, I love bags with handles and now that I can get them anywhere, I am thrilled!  I now call it on my other art blogs, 'My Bag of Tricks'.

I mention this story to illustrate how ingrained collecting, saving and memories are linked together.  This is why I have been saving my Mom's stuff.  It is a combination of grief, collecting, saving, connection, closeness, devotion, feeling her presence, honoring her and fear of letting her go.  I will begin to let go, however little I can.  I hope the memories of my Mom don't go with her belongings and that they stay deep in my heart and soul forever.  I will never get rid of those.  So follow along with me as I begin this journey to let each one of my Mom's things go to another place.  I will write about it as I experience it and for now that is the best I can do.


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