this is real life
My older sister Megan and I used to play this super fun game with Carrie, except it was against her own free will. Every so often, when Carrie was downstairs or not home, we would go into her bedroom and go through her things. If you knew Carrie, you knew that she was a bit of a neat freak. So we would make slight adjustments to her room; big enough that she would sense that something was off, but small enough that she wouldn't quite know what we did when she walked in. We would switch pictures into different frames, halfway open a drawer or two, switch around her pillows, make wall art just slightly crooked, and so on. When we could hear her walking up the stairs, we would quickly run out of her room, hide in another room, and wait for her reaction, which was something along the lines of "what... Did... YoU.... DO?!?!?"
It was the best.
Growing up, I jumped at every opportunity to snoop through my sister's room. Whether it was to mess up her things or secretly play with her polly pockets (looking back, there were a lot of signs early on.... if you know, you know), I never missed a chance to be an annoying big brother. A few weeks ago, we went through her belongings for a not as fun reason. This time, I was dreading it. I've had a lot of moments so far where things just don't seem real, but I knew that without a doubt, going through her belongings would definitely be a big slap in the face reminder that this is real life.
"I've had a lot of moments so far where things just don't seem real, but I knew that without a doubt, going through her belongings would definitely be a big slap in the face reminder that this is real life."
letting go, literally
I was anxious about this process for a variety of reasons. The first and silliest reason was the worry that I'd learn that my sister was actually some closeted weirdo. Was she hiding any weird secrets in her upstairs attic? What if I find out she had some strange addiction that belonged on a TLC reality show? Well, good news, I'm happy to share that the answer is NO, she wasn't hiding any weird secrets. She was very much a normal person.
The second and more serious reason was the fear of letting go (both emotionally and physically). When someone passes away, all you really have moving forward are the memories and whatever physical items they have left behind in this world. As silly as it sounds, the idea of donating any of her belongings actually made me feel a little sick at first. Before heading home to start the process of going through her items, my mind would race in a way similar to this: "What are we going to do with all of her things that don't make sense to pass on to someone else? Do we donate them? Do we donate her clothes? How could we possibly just give away her clothes? They are HER clothes. We can't just give them away as if... as if she's not here. Oh wait, she's not here."
Don't get me wrong. We kept a lot of her things: the special mementos, jewelry, clothes, and other private items. But there was a lot of "letting go," quite literally. I don't know if it was the fact that she had too many clothes for her own good, or that we just got better at letting go of certain items that didn't hold as much meaning to us, but it got a little easier as the weekend progressed on. And it was kind of fun in a way, reliving so many memories growing up.
I think that's a pretty good metaphor for grief. There's a lot of anxiety and buildup, and then you do the hard thing and it wasn't as horrible as you anticipated, and then you process the hard thing afterward and it's a little sad to think about how you had to do that thing in the first place, and you're proud of yourself for doing the hard thing but still pissed that you had to do it in the first place. If that makes any sense whatsoever.
cherish the little things
While going through her belongings, I came across so many little things that I didn't even know existed, but immediately knew I wanted to keep: a keychain with Dwyer embroidered that she had on her teacher lanyard, her Chi Omega lavaliere, and her Reds name tag to name a few. Ever since she passed away, I've grappled with the idea of how I plan to keep her memory alive in my every day routines without making every day a sad fest of emotions, and I think it's truly in the little things.
Every morning, when I grab my keys that now includes her Dwyer keychain, I smile knowing that she did the same thing every morning before heading to school to teach and impact young lives. Every evening, when I go to my closet to change out of my work clothes, I see her Saint Henry Crusaders sweatshirt hanging up and remember that she loved comfy clothes over getting all dressed up. When I go into our home office to get some photo editing done, I see her Chi Omega membership certificate and think about all the fun times and laughs she shared with her sorority sisters at EKU. When I get to my office at work, I see her hand-painted coffee mug and remember that she actually hated coffee and probably only painted that mug because it was a free sorority sisterhood event, but she went anyway because she enjoyed spending time with others.
So, if you've ever wondered, "what can I do honor someone - alive or deceased?" and my advice is to cherish the little things. The day-to-day things. The things that made them smile every day. The things that they were passionate about. The things that make you smile thinking about them. Cherish them forever.