Six months after losing my husband to Alzheimer’s, I am facing the delayed grief of clearing out his clothes and belongings.

When Letting Go of His Things Feels Like Losing Him Again

I saw a post from a woman who was despairing over disposing of her late husband’s possessions. I can empathize with her. I am going through the same thing.

When I Was Numb, I Could Let Go of His Clothes

Initially, when I was numb, I was able to clear out bags of his clothing. I felt nothing at the time. I was simply anesthetized against the reality of it all. Hollow inside. Empty. Going through the motions on autopilot.

At that point, I think my mind was protecting me from the unbearable truth: he was never going to wear those clothes again. His hands would never reach for that shirt. His body would never fill those familiar spaces.

Instead, someone else could use these clothes. Most had never been worn.

I could make decisions because I was still in survival mode. But grief has a strange way of waiting until you are strong enough to feel it.

Why Letting Go of My Husband’s Belongings Is So Painful

Letting go of my husband’s belongings after death has become one of the hardest parts of my grief journey. Now whenever I look at his things, I experience a heaviness on my chest. I have problems breathing. The idea of disposing of his possessions has become unbearable.

It feels like he is being wiped away as if he never existed.

But he did exist.

My Husband’s Belongings Are More Than Just Things

How can I dispose of his things? They aren’t mine. They are his.

And then I struggle with the question: where did he go?

Grief After Losing a Husband Brings Unanswered Questions

I saw him die. I watched Alzheimer’s slowly take him away from me. What was left at the end was his body. An empty shell.

I saw that empty shell buried.

But my Dave is gone.

His essence. His being. His soul.

Where is he?

Six Months Later, Grief Returned

Six months later, I find myself crying daily. Sometimes it comes out of nowhere. I thought I was doing better. I thought I had moved further along in this journey.

But grief doesn’t seem to work that way.

I am still trying to understand how someone who was such a huge part of my life can suddenly no longer be here.

Faith, Prayer, and Living With Questions

As a Catholic, I feel like this shouldn’t be such a struggle for me. I’m praying he is in purgatory or Heaven. But at the same time, this emptiness comes on me that I can’t explain because there are no answers.

All I can do now is pray and ask God to have mercy on him.

I know God is with me, but right now, I feel so alone.

You can read more about our Alzheimer Journey and the years we spent fighting this disease together:

Navigating the Unpredictable: Caregiving through Sickness, Dementia, and Chocolate Mishaps

https://kjpeissner.com/2025/01/17/471/