I'm honestly feeling quite motivated to organize my house, get rid of clutter and get ready to move forward with my life but it's so unbelievably hard to do. My house is beyond cluttered (I may soon be a candidate for that show "hoarders") so today I decided I'd start with something small - the hall closet.
I keep mostly towels and sheets stored in that closet with a couple of shelves dedicated to things like first-aid supplies and toiletries. I thought it would be the easiest place to begin, the place with the least emotional attachment. Notsomuch. Who would've thought the hall closet would bring me to tears.
First I found the giant Spongebob band-aids I bought for Peter when he fell and scraped his knee at a playground. I can't quite possibly get rid of those...and I guess I don't really have to. Then I found the unopened bottle of kids' shampoo I must have bought right before they died. Guess I don't need that anymore.
Next I found a partially used bottle of Zofran, an antimedic that was prescribed for Peter exactly one year ago today. He had a very bad gastrointestinal illness last year. I had to take him to the ER at Children's Hospital twice and he missed a full week of school. It's not a good memory, but at least it's a memory. Even if he was really sick, he was still here.
This picture Kate made for Peter when he was sick is still hanging on my wall where she taped it:
Then I found the Vicks VapoRub that I used to put on Kate's feet before bed when she had a bad cold and cough (yes I said FEET and really, it works for the cough! ). Again, a memory of having a sick kid, but also a memory of putting her in bed at night, hugging her, telling her I loved her, and knowing she was safe and sound in her bed.
So now instead of cleaning and organizing I'm crying and writing. At this rate my house will be organized sometime in 2016...maybe. I know I need to take my time and I know I need to cry, but it sucks...and hurts.