Decluttering sadness

My name is sadness.

We know each other well.

Today I’ve been nesting.

I’ve been in your cupboard, the one under the stairs, haunted by the ghost town of your life.

I put on old songs and found fragments, litter, so many broken shards. Old photographs of friends, abandoned in their frames.

A box of precious love notes.

A watch stuck on some unknown time, given to you by your father.

That reminds me, where is he now?

A trickle tear as you cradle the watch in your mind.

Oh! Yes, I’m pleased you noticed! I’m wearing that sweater, the one you were wearing when you kissed your first love goodbye.

You and I have discussed this.

These items are relics. Your only connection to your past.

Those days gone, you can never get them back.

Put this sweater on, inhale it, walk with me down the lane where you once existed without me. We we will cry memories as we go. Lingering at bittersweet turns.

Don’t worry, when we’re finished I’ll put all these things away for you.

We’ll come back again soon.

I am not ready for you to let go just yet.



26 thoughts on “Decluttering sadness

      1. I am like you. In my spare room is one of my Mum’s pink jumpers, a colourful bag tag, a birthday calendar as well as hankies and her pink bath robe. We should hold onto these things for as long as we need too. don’t listen to the culture too much. Grieving and letting go is a complex process and you aren’t doing anything wrong. Hugs xoxo

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Iโ€™m happy you enjoyed it, Iโ€™d nearly forgotten about this one, it feels such a long time ago I wrote it… my writing style has changed a lot since then, but Iโ€™m not always sure that itโ€™s for the better!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. All I ever had was five blazer buttons that were left in an old cigarette tin which Iโ€™m so grateful for but what I think is essential for children is to be given a piece of clothing like an old jumper that they can snuggle up to when feeling sad etc… my Mother threw everything that belonged to my father away. Last year, when doing some housework for my elderly mother I noticed (for the first time) a walking stick that was resting with a bunch of others against the wall in her porch to which she replied – โ€œOh! thatโ€™s your Dads itโ€™s been there yearโ€™sโ€ – I was elated and brought it home. My father died over 38 years ago.
        I absolutely love your work and Iโ€™m so grateful that I found your blog ๐Ÿ’™

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.