Stuff Matters
“Stuff” in the Barbara Diamond dictionary is defined as the items which we collect throughout our lives which we think are important to save. When a spouse departs this earth, we are left alone to decide which items over the many years of marriage merit retaining…and which can be given away, or disposed of entirely. This can be a difficult process.
I am sure that I have mentioned once or twice in the three years of writing chapters reflecting on the ten-year journey of caring for Hubby through cognitive decline that I need eight hours of sleep. Of course, this information may not be “earth-shattering,” but it is something that I am now reflecting upon. At 5:30 a.m. this morning, after only four and a half hours of sleep, my brain activated. The computer in my head started to churn out thoughts about “stuff.” Unless I could convince myself to leave the comfort of my delicious, warm, pink, fluffy blanket in order to write down these thoughts, there would be no hope of sleep. Unfortunately, my brain began writing this chapter as I was coming out of the sleep-state, and I knew that my incredibly “brilliant thoughts” would disappear entirely if I did not record them immediately! My lack of humility at 5:30 a.m. is really quite astounding. My “unique” sense of humor keeps me in good spirits in spite of the lack of sleep. I digress – it is my one weakness – please forgive me. Back to the issues at hand.
Many widows and widowers speak of holding onto their loved one’s wardrobe sometimes for a year. Just holding their garment and smelling the scent of the loved one brings their essence into the present. The pain of detaching ourselves from those garments is sometimes too much to bear. Disposing of their clothes feels too final, as if we are disposing of the loved ones themselves. We may wait until our emotions are less “raw” in order to face this inevitable responsibility.
When my mother passed away from lung cancer at the age of 68, I, as the only child, was left to filter through each garment, pair of shoes, and item of jewelry to decide where its next home might be. She was an incredibly talented and creative woman who was (as was I) in the retail designer and fabric business for over 30 years. Her clothes were made by her own hands with the skill of a European couturier. Her taste was impeccable and it was appropriate that I give great attention as to which fortunate recipient would continue to enjoy the treasures she had created and purchased.
Hubby’s wardrobe beckons to me daily. Because he had been a clothing designer, his legacy is partially the beautiful shoes, belts, jackets, custom suits, shirts, ties, and jewelry which he left behind. Little by little, I am finding worthy recipients of the most important items. It gives me pleasure to know that others will enjoy that which we as a couple selected, and the items which reflected Hubby’s “panache.”
The two gorgeous pairs of Hubby’s shoes which I wrote about in the chapter titled: “The Beautiful Shoes” concerned me. Who might merit these special items which showed no signs of every having been worn outside? So many chapters in this diary have mentioned his fascination and concern with these shoes. They are important to me.
Our son appreciated the brown/cognac combination but deferred on the black/gray pair. That made no sense to me. Perhaps I should save them for later when he will regain his “good senses” and ask for them? I also offered them to a couple of special young men for whom the “glass slippers” were a bit too tight.
I put forward the offer to a very close family friend who visited upon Hubby’s passing. His discomfort at the idea of wearing the shoes of someone who had passed away was visible. His excuses for why he might take them “later” did not resonate, and I asked him outright, “are you uncomfortable with the idea of wearing the shoes of someone who has passed away?”
He admitted, that indeed that was the problem. I was saddened by his reaction. It would have meant a great deal to me if he had accepted them gracefully. The melody to “These boots are made for walkin’…” just keeps going around in my head. Beautiful shoes should be enjoyed. There are not that many of them made these days!
“Stuff” is really sometimes more than what it appears. Another wonderful friend who visited me (having arrived in Israel at the time of Hubby’s passing) and comforted me in the days that followed returned weeks later to accompany his beloved father from Florida to his final resting place…in the same cemetery as Hubby. I know you probably think that this cemetery talk is macabre, but I am constantly comforted by these coincidences. I had asked him his shoe size in a text I sent to him but never explained why it mattered. He replied, and his size was perfect!
Unexpectedly, we were together once more, and I asked if he would like to receive the grey/black shoes in pristine condition. He said he would be honored. I was thrilled. Two terrific men in my life…with two totally different reactions. Both acknowledged that this pair of shoes had significance way beyond the design, the suede and the leather of which they were composed.
Another friend came to pay his respects upon Hubby’s passing and mentioned that he needed to purchase a cane to help him with his walking. Immediately, I went to Hubby’s supply, selected the best of the group and handed him Hubby’s glorious silver-tipped cane with the head of a cobra. At that moment, parting with it was of little consequence, but every time that I see it being used, I receive pleasure knowing this object which Hubby treasured has found a new appreciative guardian.
There are many people whom upon losing their loved one find the “stuff” painful to retain. In my experience, more men have this reaction than women. Books have been written about the differences between the two sexes but I think it’s more than male/female inclinations that are involved in this gut level reaction. Much has to do with the individual’s need to divest his/herself of the past in order to move forward to a “new tomorrow.” Not everyone wants to move forward. In my personal experience, it seems that men do this more easily than women.
The beauty of “stuff” is the memories that it brings forth. A piece of art selected by a couple will evoke feelings of days in search of the perfect painting, and the home which it adorned. A plastic plate which was created by a child of six with a tracing of their hand, decorated with brightly splashed paint is a treasure to the parent. I have one such plate on display. A family heirloom can be a treasure for generations if only the time is taken to appreciate it.
Friends frequently are disappointed when their adult children have little interest in the “stuff” which, as parents, they collected over a lifetime. My generation loved expensive items made from sterling silver. Today’s generation likes disposable and minimalistic items. Each generation creates its own style. We can only hope that upon our own passing, some of our “stuff” will remind those who loved us of the essence of whom we were… and that they will keep it in order to keep our memory alive.
As I look around my home at the shocking amount of “stuff” which Hubby and I selected together, I am quite content. I have no intention of living in the past, but the “stuff” is also a reflection of whom I was at each stage of this journey called marriage… and as such, it reminds me that the experience – all of it – has been a gift. I have every intention of making the rest of the odyssey as interesting and fulfilling as it has been thus far. I hope you will do the same.
