Working on the projects.

I’ve already tackled the garage and both his sheds. This weekend, I finally bit the bullet and tackled Brad’s downstairs room. 

(Just to clarify, this isn’t a bedroom where I would banish Brad when he was being bad. Just a spare room that was full of his stuff. )

He had A LOT of stuff. 

I never really realized how much there was, because I never had to deal with it. As long as it all fit in that room and the door could close, I didn’t care. Digging through his room (not to mention his two sheds and giant garage) I realized that I never should’ve allowed him to tease me about the twenty different bags I have or all my shoes or jewelry. 

Some people have a few hobbies. Brad had dozens. And each of those hobbies requires LOTS. OF. STUFF. 

Snowboarding. Golfing. Fishing.(all types) Fly tying. Music. Bullet reloading. Hunting–archery, rifle, bird, muzzleloader and shed. Roping. Riding. Horse training. Trapshooting. Snowmobiling. Motorcycle riding. Four-wheeling. Flying. 

Not to mention taking care of the yard and farming. 

He had all the equipment and clothes to do all of these activities at any given season. For two people.

I don’t mind. I’m so glad that he had so many hobbies. He had so much fun. 

But it did leave me with a lot of work to do. 

It wasn’t as bad as I thought, though. 

My Dad and brothers came and helped with the sheds. We filled my Dad’s horse trailer with a load of garbage. 

I chose to tackle the downstairs room during the conference weekend, so I could have something uplifting and spiritual to listen to while I worked to help distract me. It was a good idea. Conference was amazing. I felt like so many things were meant for me. 

And really, it wasn’t too bad, because I didn’t get rid of too much stuff. Yet. I just dejunked, decided what I was going to keep, and organized it so my family would be able to come go through it. 

Things would catch me though. Finding the bag that he had with him on that fateful trip. There were some clothes there I hand’t found yet. And, for the first time ever, a piece of clothing finally smelled like him. I’d been trying to find his smell for months. It took me a long time to get back to work once I did.  

Even though what I was throwing away was mostly junk (seriously, I found half eaten granola bars and bottles of gatorade in his backpacks) every time I took a box of stuff to the garbage, it was like I was getting rid of a piece of him. I know these are just things. But they were his. It was a part of him. Each item represented who he was. And I was cleaning it out in the process of getting of rid of it all. Yeah. That hurts. (But we’re scrubbing the wound, remember?)  

It did hit me hard when I finally had to deal with a box of shoes. I cleaned them out of the garage a while ago, but couldn’t face getting rid of them. What was I supposed to do with a box of old, worn, dirty shoes? There was nothing to do, but get rid of them. 

Leah, being the compassionate little girl she is, literally dropped her Barbie and ran to me when she saw me on my knees crying. She hugged me. When she asked what was wrong, I told her that I missed Daddy, and I was sad that I had to get rid of his shoes. She said, “We don’t have to get rid of them.” I told her that we did. “But Mom, what will we smash spiders with?” Hugging me, she thought for a minute and said, “maybe we should keep one boot for a spider smasher.” I laughed and told her that was a great idea. 

So, meet our new spider smasher. 

It wasn’t an uneventful project though. There was a nasty snake in the corner of his bedroom. A SNAKE!!!!!! In the house!!! Gratefully, my little brother came and saved me or I wouldn’t have been able to work at all the rest of the day.

Going through all his stuff has been one of those things that has been looming over my head for the past 7+ months. It sucks to have to do. It sucks to face the reality. But I’m really glad that I did it. Really glad that it’s done, I guess I should say. I still have more to do. Hard things. But, I can do them. I know I can.