The Closet

I continue to see more and more how people grieve so differently. I have a new friend- a guy that suddenly lost his wife 12 days before I lost Jason. We check in with each other from time to time and share about our pain and what our days without our loved one looks like. He told me the other day about how when she first died, he searched high and low in every closet and drawer to see what he could find. He was hoping to find something he had not already seen. That gave him great comfort. For me.......I avoided all those things. It was too fresh and the pain was too raw for me to look. I felt that no matter what I found, it would not bring Jason back to me. Interesting how we all handle things in our own way.

Yesterday, I decided to work on the closet. For the past 2 months, my closet has served as the storage area for anything and everything I haven't wanted to deal with. I started just putting things in there and closing the door. Eventually, I couldn't see the floor and had to jump over piles in order to get to my clothes. It was quite ridiculous but I didn't have the emotional energy to deal with it. I decided that yesterdays task would be to clear everything off the floor and mostly focus on my stuff. I had clothes in there from 1994 (okay, maybe not that far back but waaaay back) in a variety of sizes. I'm sure most girls can relate to me on that. When I got married, I was tiny. Then you add two pregnancies into the mix and I had clothes in different sizes to get me through the different stages- the sizes got bigger before I wore maternity and then I had the bigger sizes to carry me after the birth until I lost the weight. Most of the clothes were dated and even if they fit, I wouldn't want to wear them today. Jason always called me a pack rat. Said I had a hard time getting rid of things. He was right. What if I needed that someday? :)

I started on my side and went through each piece- one by one. I filled 8 garbage bags full of shoes and clothes that I don't wear anymore. It was such a nice feeling once I was finished. The bad part is that I have very little left and I kept telling myself that I needed to go shopping to partially fill it back up. Ha!

I was able to get some of Jason's things off the floor and onto a shelf. This is when the emotions really started to take over for me. I would stare at something and think "this is the last spot he put that." For the first time in almost 10 weeks I had such a strong desire to feel and smell him again. I walked over to his dress shirts that were hanging up and just grabbed a big handful of the sleeves and buried my face in them. I lost it. It's probably the hardest cry I've had since Oct 5. One might classify it as howling. My body desperately needed to release those emotions. I continued to say out loud: "why?"... "how?"... "I don't understand" ...."this isn't fair." To my disappointment the smells had faded.

Before starting the closet, I found a scripture that stood out to me:
"Whenever trouble comes your way, let it be an opportunity for joy. For when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be strong in character and ready for anything." James 1:2-4

While in the closet, I had a pep talk and kept repeating to myself: "find the joy." I did. I looked at shirts and thought about places we went and the images in my head of him wearing those clothes. I am so thankful for wonderful memories with him.

I kept repeating to myself: "you are being tested." And I am. I feel like much of this nightmare is a test of my faith and that Satan is waiting in the wings to see if I'll fall. Sometimes it's hard to be strong and realize that God still loves me and wants the best for me. One could easily view Jason's death as a betrayal on God's part. Not me. I know better than that.

I kept repeating to myself: "you are getting stronger every day." Even when I can't see it at that moment, I do know that I've acquired an unimaginable amount of strength to carry me through this time.

The hardest part for me was looking inside the white hospital bag. Inside, were the clothes and shoes that Jason wore into the ER that day. I hugged his shirt and dug into his pockets to see what I could find. He had no clue that morning that it would be his last day to get dressed.

I'm starting to pull some things aside for the boys. I plan to have a large bucket filled with some of Jason's things and this will be something they can have when they get older. After Christmas, I plan to let his family and even close friends come and take dress shirts or anything else they might want of his. The rest will be donated.

I have such mixed feelings when thinking about an empty closet. Part of me thinks it will be easier to go in there and not see his things. The other part of me is crushed to know it won't be there and that life is moving on without him. I have to remind myself though that these are just things and that life on Earth is just a brief resting place.

"We fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:18