Confession time. I am no domestic diva as of late. I always felt I was fighting against the tide of things coming into the house my husband was enamored with at the moment. He was definitely a “phase” guy. We’ve got boxes of movies, video games, remote control helicopters, art books, Warhammer models, board games, action figures still in their packaging, masks, cookbooks, and his latest obsession, Legos.. If it sounds like I’m talking about a big kid, you’d be right, but his childlike joy was one thing I really loved about him. I let him take over the den to store his stuff and avoided going in there myself because the clutter was simply too much for me and if there was one thing I hated, it was being forced to feel like a nag.
I always said that the single biggest issue in our marriage was the garage. There are rows upon rows of boxes filled with what at some point was obviously a treasure but instead was relegated to unopened, dusty collections of things we probably would never need again. That garage and his den are now my problem and when it comes time to go through those boxes I worry I will mistake trash for treasure. Parting with any of his possessions is unbearable. Changing anything in the house from how it was when he was last here feels impossible.
I see my husband everywhere I look, but nowhere more than in our bedroom. I spend as little time there as possible. I go in the room twice a day. In the morning I shower, put on fresh clothes, and brush my teeth. At night, I brush my teeth and wash my face. I do not sleep in there yet. In the bathroom, there is still a pile of his underwear left behind the door from when he’d get into the shower. I always hated that pile but now I can’t bring myself to move it. So yes, I know it is gross to have month old dirty underwear on the floor in the bathroom, but the reality is if I clean it up, what are my options for dealing with it? I certainly can’t donate old underwear. I could wash it and put it back in his drawer but that just delays the inevitable, which is that I really just need to throw it away. I just can’t do that yet.
Eventually, I will need to deal with all of the byproducts of his horded hobbies, his clothes, and everything that he surrounded himself with to make him happy. I suppose I fall into that last category. Some day I will have to deal with me and my place in this world without it. The more time that passes, the more reality creeps in and I know my soul will be just one more mess to handle.
Finding the pieces 