What to Keep and Not Keep
My Dream Garage doesn’t just happen!
Things Pile Up
David could hardly walk through his garage without bumping into stacks of junk, discarded household items he had planned to repair, boxes of books that needed sorting, the kids' bikes with flat tires, and all of his tools. His good intentions to clean it up someday got overlooked by the urgent activities of life, preventing him from going out there in the cold of winter or the heat of summer.
Grief Piles Up
Grief is messy. Unattended grief can accumulate in the garages of our hearts and minds. These unresolved or unhealed parts of us can handicap our current relationships without us even being aware. Some of us might understand that it would do us good to clean up our emotional clutter, but it's hard work, inconvenient, or too overwhelming! You and I might be like David and find every excuse NOT to attend to the messy, disorganized spaces of our hearts and minds.
Doing The Grief Work
In a way, grief that heals is a process of sorting through physical and emotional stuff. Sometimes it’s referred to as grief work. We need to face what we will keep and what we will let go of. A layer of sadness that we seldom recognize is the unfulfilled hopes and dreams of physical reminders and what they represent, like finding your old wedding album after a divorce, or the need to donate unused baby items. These objects once held so much promise; now, they represent a longed-for future that never materialized. Spilling our feelings onto paper is one of the best sorting processes in our grief.
The Landscape of Grief Changes
This journey of grief takes us through all kinds of terrain. The scenery will change, and you will feel differently about those physical objects and the memories associated with them. The losses that move into your future can be softened with the good you take with you from the past.
Fellow Grievers Share
Jerry and Diane journeyed through the unimaginable grief of their 5-year-old son’s death due to leukemia. Early on, every toy, all his clothes, the sandbox, and the little wagon were objects that generated great pain. The memories of his cancer diagnosis, remission, eventual relapse, and death were all they could recall. But as they journeyed in their grief, the scenery began to change, and memories of their son before leukemia came into focus. While their hearts still longed for their precious son’s presence, they began to accept his absence. Diane felt comfortable sharing his clothes with another boy his size. Jerry gave the wagon to a family with several small children. They experienced contentment and purpose in “letting go” of some of their son’s things. As Jerry and Diane sorted through their feelings and the physical reminders of their son, his personal belongings evoked a smile of happier times.
They noticed that letting go also opened space in their hearts for more happy memories to emerge. They experimented with living more fully in the moment instead of painfully in the past or the future. Jerry and Diane were not forgetting their son, but rather keeping the best of his short life in their hearts and letting go of objects that no longer served them. Their grief was healing. The messy and chaotic inner world, unlike David’s garage, was being sorted to keep what was precious and let go of what was hurtful or no longer useful.
A Little At A Time
There comes a time when you no longer need the physical reminders to keep the memory of your loved ones alive and precious. Letting go and keeping what is healing for our hearts and minds is not as difficult as it might seem. Little by little, you can sort, process, keep, and let go. Ask yourself, “Is this object or this memory moving me towards accepting reality and a healthy, healed heart or not?” If it is, keep it. If it is not, let it go. Again, use a piece of paper and a pen to let it go on paper. Your heart and mind will welcome the extra space for current or new connections while holding dear the past ones.
I envision your messy grief eventually looking like your “Dream Garage.”
© Comfort for the Day/Karen Nicola Jan. 2026
