We had always wanted to downsize after the kids grew up and moved out. This becomes complicated when your child passes and moving becomes leaving the physical space of a lifetime of memories together. Our new place will not have Zane sit there and share a drink with us.  It will not have his fingerprints on the door or his voice fill the room with new things to remember.  Leaving this home feels like my son is leaving all over again.

I thought maybe I could remedy this by bringing all of his things with me. The problem with downsizing is that you no longer have the space for everything.  Tough decisions will need to be made as to what stays and what goes.  It takes the joy of moving to a bittersweet level.  Ironically fitting with everything else; life is bittersweet, including our move.

The suggestions have been to take pictures, give some of his things to friends, sell his stuff and use the money to buy something he would have liked. These are helpful ideas.  I might even try all of them. However, none of them brings his room, all his belongings with me.  None of these suggestions help me accept that his imprinted energy of living in this home for seventeen years will remain here.  Away from me.

I know that his spirit is everywhere. I know that he will know where I am and I expect more visits.  None of the aspects of communicating with my son on his new realm will change after the move.  That is not what I am grieving. I am grieving that the last home my son lived in, grew up in, will be gone.

What will happen to the tree he planted in grade three?  Will the new owners cut it down?  What happens to his bike that I look out each morning to see by the fence…remembering how much he enjoyed that as a boy. The view through the front window where he would pull up in his beloved car…I still look out that window, waiting for him to arrive. The piano he learned to play, the couch he played video games on, and the video games….our current home is still staged for his return. The new home will have none of this.  It simply cannot. These changes are kryptonite to me.

Someone suggested this move might help with my healing.  I can’t imagine how, but I hope so. Right now, with each step to prepare for our house to sell and to move away causes my heart to scream. Grief has hit home in every definition.