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Skeletons in the Closet

Posted on: February 1, 2020 | Posted by: Bryan Martin

 

Well it’s almost 2 years now and I finally gave in. I haven’t really gone through our closet since Tin passed away.

 

Each time I’d go in the closet I would feel like there were skeletons about to grab me. I’d choke up seeing a jacket he wore, a scarf he wrapped, a shirt that was there for a special event we had together. Sometimes I just need to get things out of my sight or they will keep haunting me so, soon after Tin passed, I went into the closet and pulled out most of his clothes to donate. I cried hysterically pulling those memories from their hangers in fear that I would forget them or him or us or some unreasonable thought in that moment but felt so true as I put Tin’s stuff in a bag to be handed away forever. I got through shirts and shoes but my body gave in, I sat on the floor and sobbed uncontrollably. He was really gone…

For the past 2 years I have rarely gone in that closet. My clothes go in the hamper, into the laundry, onto the chair and I re-wear them. Something about that closet haunted me more this week than ever but it felt different. It didn’t feel full of skeletons. It just felt empty and eerie. There was a calling but no voice. A pull but no hand. Something in me told me I had changed and moved forward.

I began to pull stuff out one by one. I caught myself slowing down and a little voice said to grab it all at once and get it out of the closet. I grabbed handfuls of all our clothes and threw them on the bed. Something about getting them across the threshold changed me. I felt lighter, relieved I guess? I began listening to music and separating out what needed to stay and what needed to go. When I’d catch myself pausing on one of Tin’s items my new response was to remind myself that holding on to it wouldn’t keep him here or bring him back. That’s not the job of objects. That’s the job of my head, my heart and my voice still speaking his name.

Tin wouldn’t want me to be buried in fabric memories suffocating in sadness. The closet is now just mine. It doesn’t negate that Tin existed. It just means that I’ve taken another necessary deep breath and step forward on this new path cleared of skeletons in the closet…

Categories: Widowed & Unmarried, Widowed Memories, Widowed Emotions, LGBTQ+ Widowed

About Bryan Martin

In 2016 my life all started to fall into place. A new job as a Supervisor for animals at a small aquarium along the beautiful Florida gulf coast. It was a dream for Clayton and I to move to the beach, get settled and get married. In June of 2017 my father passed away after a long battle with opiods and alcohol. Four months later, Clayton was rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with acute liver failure. Not having been able to truly mourn my father, I was faced with knowing that Clayton (Tin as my family calls him) would also be leaving me. I had dreams of marriage, vacations and a long life together. I watched all of those dreams fade away more and more each day as I cared for him until his final days. He passed away April 16, 2018 the day after my sister’s birthday.

Now I am through the fog of the first year and reality is setting in this second time around the sun. I’m very much alone in this sleepy beach town. I’m trying to just maintain balance with my new normal. I get depressed, angry, sad, jealous, confused and disoriented. Some days are better than others and I remind myself that it is normal. So many people think my life is back to normal and fulfilling because I work with dolphins and penguins but the magic left everything when Tin passed away. I have trouble feeling passion about most things that used to light my fire. I have feelings that oppose one another and it is exhausting. I want to feel happy for others but want to know why I can’t have what they have.

Along my journey, I have had tough days and some wonderful days but at the end of each day I still don't have the answer to my one question....Why?

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