Today I celebrate the first anniversary of This Mama’s Heart. When I started last January, I wasn’t quite sure if anyone outside my family and close friends would be interested in my thoughts- the good, bad, and the ugly. But as it turns out, other people are interested and I am truly blessed to know I have touched hearts. I am honored to be allowed into your minds, souls, and lives.
TJ’s Russian Nesting Dolls seen bottom left.
But today was more than a celebration of my blog’s anniversary. It was a day that brought, once again, a tugging at my heart that it was time to pack TJ’s clothes away. The past few weeks I have felt the time has come. I am certain it will not get easier and in fact may become more difficult the longer I wait. I have been on a mission to de-clutter the house with the main focus right now being unloved clothing, so working on TJ’s clothes seemed to naturally fit in with this.
With the encouragement of a couple good friends, my sisters, and my mom, I decided to gently start the packing process. Having cleared out seven bags of my own clothing from the attic there were several empty bins waiting to be filled. I decided I wanted to be able to see some of TJ’s clothing from time to time- two pairs of pj pants, his riding pants, his first dance recital costume, his hip hop jacket, his scarves, and his socks. It sounds like a lot, but it really isn’t. Everything else was held (hugged), lovingly folded, and placed in a bin. With each item I said to TJ, “I love you, TJ. Thank you for these memories. You don’t need these anymore so I’m packing them away for Rocco.” There were many tears but in the end I managed to fill two large containers and set aside a few t-shirts of Rocco’s choosing to be made into a “TJ quilt”.
How do I feel now that it’s over? Well, as I told a friend, there were quite a few tears shed when I was alone in the house- just me, his clothing, and my tears. Many more tears were held at bay. I would have let them out but it just wasn’t the right time. to let it all out. I needed to stay focused on getting to the finish line lest I change my mind (straightening everything back up and vacuuming the mess that found its way from attic to bedroom). In the end I managed to get the bins into the attic marked “TJ’s clothes @ age 12, 1/6/19”.
My mom said she was proud of me. I’m not sure I would use those words to describe how I feel. Yeah, sure, I suppose I should feel proud. It was hard and emotional and a BIG step toward what I don’t know. But proud doesn’t quite feel right. Relieved? Mmm, no. How can one be relieved to have packed up her dead son’s belongings? In fact, not being able to assign an adjective to how I feel is somewhat upsetting. I thought there would be some sense of purpose and completion. It’s as though I’m in this purgatory of emotions, neither good, nor awful. And simultaneously overwhelmingly inexpressible. But I’m used to being overwhelmed with inexpressible feelings. It’s part of the job description.
