The others were making her do this. Said it was time, well past time. As if there was a time limit on grief. That after a set number of days, or weeks, months or even years, you could turn off the sadness like a light switch. A simple click and all sorrow and pain is gone, and your life can resume undisturbed.
It wasn’t like that. Nothing could take away that pain. Packing up all his belongings, wiping away all evidence of his life, could never erase his memory either.
They said they would help sort through everything with her, but they didn’t know what to do with any of it. They wanted to donate it, just give it away like so much junk. They might as well throw it all in black trash bags and dump it at the curb for the garbage trucks to haul off.
No, she would give his memories the respect they deserved.
Shutting the door behind her, she locked it so the others would leave her in peace. Boxes and wrapping tissue were laid out on the bed. A step stool stood in one corner so she could reach all the treasures lined up just so along the plate rail that encircled the room.
The desk where she worked was barren, bereft of textbooks and college rule paper. One by one she carefully packed academic trophies and certificates, tiny figurines of baseball bears and Christmas snow globes, photographs of happier days, and heirloom toy trucks. Each act deliberate, meticulous in its economy of motion. Slowly turning them over in her hands, imagining they were still warm from his touch.
As she placed each item in a box, reliving precious snippets of a glorious life, it was like burying him anew.
The last boxed filled, she unlocked the bedroom door and walked out. Leaving a life unfulfilled, packed away in four cardboard cartons.
A mother should never outlive her child.
Thin spiral notebook 
That last line packed a punch. I assumed it was a spouse, which is painful enough. But a child? I agree that a mother should never outlive her child.
LikeLike
Oh No! How terrible. What an awful thing to happen to any parent.
LikeLike
Beautiful, touching piece. I can see her hands wrapping every item with care and deliberation.
LikeLike
This leaves me breathless. Recently, I saw an old college friend who has two kids-ages 6 and 13. I wondered about the gap, and then she shared that they’d lost a son at the age of three. I simply can’t imagine a worse hell on earth than that.
Beautiful writing on a gut wrenching subject!
LikeLike
That was heavy but in such a good way! You packed a lot of punch in so few lines. I especially like, “Each act deliberate, meticulous in its economy of motion.” Such awesome word choice.
LikeLike
What a wonderful heartbreaking story. LM x
LikeLike
no no no. not a child. 😦 so sad. so so so very sad.
LikeLike
So well written and so moving. I’m so grateful I’ve never had to do that… Just heard about a colleague who’s 15 year old daughter committed suicide…
LikeLike
ugh, a kick the gut right at the end. Wasn’t expecting it to be a child.
LikeLike
So powerful and moving. Like LceeL I too have lost a child, and in 2011 a Grandchild. I am sure that there a many who will be touched by this piece. I know I certainly was * insert tears here *
LikeLike