It’s been three months since we lost our dog, and I still can’t move his bed away from the back door.
The blanket is still rumpled the way he left it. A little fur still clings to the edge. Every time I walk past, I see it, and every time, I decide again to leave it right where it is.
Maybe for you it’s the bowl still sitting on the kitchen floor. The leash still hanging on its hook. A favorite toy under the couch that you can’t quite bring yourself to pick up.
You know, deep down, that you could put it away. But you can’t. Your hand won’t do it.
And what makes it so confusing is…
The profound feeling of guilt for keeping it out, like you’re not moving forward the way you should.
But the thought of putting it in a box makes you feel guilty too, like you’re saying they didn’t matter.
Guilt if you keep it. Guilt if you don’t.
So you do nothing, and the bed stays by the door.
If that’s where you are, I want you to hear something gently, right at the start.
This is grief, not clutter. And if the sadness feels very heavy right now, please lean on the people who love you, or talk to someone who can help carry it. You don’t have to hold it by yourself.
What you’re feeling is not weakness, and you are not behind.
Letting go of a pet’s belongings is one of the quietest, hardest kinds of grief there is, because they were family, and their things are the last soft proof they were here.
Let me sit with you in this for a bit, and then, when you’re ready, I’ll share a few gentle ways to start.