The Things We Leave Behind

Loss has a peculiar way of shifting our perception of the ordinary. What once seemed like just a sweater, a recipe scribbled on a scrap of paper, or a watch tucked into a drawer suddenly takes on profound significance. These items become relics, tangible connections to the people we’ve loved and lost. They tell stories, hold memories, and offer comfort in a world forever altered by their absence.

After someone we love is gone, the things they leave behind can feel like whispers of their presence. A favorite coffee mug still carries the faint trace of their morning routine. A scarf draped over a chair holds the scent of their favorite perfume. A well-worn book with scribbled notes in the margins becomes a conversation that continues even after they’re no longer here.

But these things also hold weight—the weight of decisions. What do we keep? What do we let go of? Sorting through someone’s belongings can feel like walking a tightrope between holding on and moving forward. Each item invites us to remember, sometimes with a smile, sometimes with tears, and often with both.

When my own moments of loss came, I found myself clinging to seemingly trivial objects. A handwritten recipe card became a lifeline to Sunday afternoons spent baking together. A battered tennis racket reminded me of the countless games played and the shared laughter on the court. These things weren’t just things; they were pieces of a story I wasn’t ready to stop telling.

Yet, there is beauty in realizing that it’s not the objects themselves that matter most. It’s the memories they evoke, the lessons they carry, and the love they symbolize. Over time, I’ve learned that we don’t need to keep everything to hold on to someone. Their essence is stitched into the fabric of our lives—not just in what they left behind, but in how they changed us.

If you’re walking through the process of sorting through someone’s belongings, be gentle with yourself. Take your time. Let each item tell its story. And when you’re ready, know that releasing something doesn’t mean letting go of the person it belonged to. Their presence lives on in your heart, in your memories, and in the person, you’ve become because of them.

So, pause today and look around your own space. What items remind you of someone you’ve loved and lost? What stories do they tell? Perhaps it’s a quilt, a photograph, or a piece of jewelry. Maybe it’s something as simple as a pen they always used. Whatever it is, let it be a bridge—a connection between then and now, a reminder that the things we leave behind are never just things. They’re echoes of love, traces of life, and gifts we carry forward.

💗Aimee