Last night was a big night... I had been silently struggling with the idea of moving Matt's clothes out of our closet to make room for my sister's clothes when she moves in. With all the issues she has with her back, I couldn't in good conscience make her go up and down the basement stairs to get her clothes every day. The clincher was where to put all the piles of stuff in my bedroom that came from the old office... I can't put that stuff downstairs because I need ready access to it.
It wasn't quite as gut-wrenching as I thought it would be. Maybe because the kids were with me and playing in the basement - I can usually keep it together pretty well in front of them, so they kept me strong. It was hard, but I think the anticipation of moving the clothes was worse than actually doing it. I just had to keep reminding myself over and over again that I'm not getting rid of them - I'm just moving them.
We've got these portable wooden closets that Matt acquired from his job at Gow ("portable" only because they're not built into the wall, but they weigh a TON. I don't know how Matt got them into the basement. Oh wait - I do know... he was strong as an ox!). They didn't have too much in them... The things that took up the most space were my wedding gown in it's box, and other wedding stuff that I crammed in there. I put those things in a different spot of the basement, and then started out by moving all of his pants into the them... Little by little, I ended up bringing most of his things down, leaving all his t-shirts (many are in Jacob's closet so he can sleep in them), a few sweatshirts, a couple pairs of shorts that he wore all the time, his only two ties and belt in there. It feeds my need to see them, touch them, smell them, and wear them.
I was able to make a lot of room for my sister's clothes, and had space enough to get the office stuff off of my bedroom floor. I know if she wasn't moving in, those clothes would probably sit there for years.
I talked to Matt the whole time... assuring him that this in no way meant that I was in a hurry to move his stuff out of the closet, that I hated the fact that I was put in the position to have to do this, that I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with him, but that I don't say that to make him feel guilty - I know he didn't have a choice in the matter. That I love him and miss him terribly. That he will always be the love of my life - no matter what happens in the future and no matter who may come into my life. He will always be THE love of my life, father of my children. And so on and so on...
There are still things untouched and unmoved; his toothbrush is still in the toothbrush holder next to mine, some clothes still in his hamper...
I was up until 1:30am, but I got so much done and my closet is clean and ready, my bedroom only has the stuff in there that is supposed to be in there (and it's clean!), and the bathroom vanities have been switched (we have a long counter with two sinks, and now I'm using the side that Matt used). Phew. I'm beat!