The house is quiet now, but his presence lingers everywhere — in the coat still hanging by the door, the coffee cup on the shelf, the shirt that still smells like him.

You might be wondering, “Should I start going through his things?” Or maybe someone — gently or not — has already asked, “Have you cleaned out the closet yet?”

If your heart clenches at the thought, you’re not alone. And you’re not wrong for not being ready.

Let’s take a breath together and talk about this.

There Is No Right Time

First things first: there is no deadline. Not this month. Not this year. Not ever. Grief doesn’t run on a schedule, and neither does letting go.
Keeping his things doesn’t mean you’re stuck. Letting them go doesn’t mean you’re moving on too fast. There is sacred ground in both holding and releasing — and the space in between is often where the real healing happens.

Step 1: Sit With the Silence

Before you touch a thing, just be with it. Open the door to the closet. Look at the nightstand, the drawer, the shelf. Don’t do anything yet. Just observe. Let the memories surface. Let the ache rise if it needs to. Sometimes, we rush into sorting because the silence feels too loud. But you deserve time — not to “get it over with,” but to honor what was.

Step 2: Start with the Easy Things

If — and only if — you feel ready to begin, start small. Don’t go for the jacket he wore every Sunday or the drawer of old letters just yet.

Start with:

• Expired medications
• Duplicates of items you have no emotional tie to
• Paperwork that’s no longer relevant

This gives you a sense of gentle progress without emotional overload.

Step 3: Make a “Not Yet” Box

There will be things you’re unsure about — shirts you can’t part with, books that still feel like his hands just touched them. That’s okay. Create a box (or two) labeled “Not Yet.”

Place anything in there that feels too tender to decide on now. You’re not avoiding. You’re pausing. There’s wisdom in that. Store the box somewhere safe, knowing that you’ll come back to it when you’re ready — even if that’s months or years from now.

Step 4: Keep the Sacred

There are items that carry more than memory — they carry meaning.

• The watch he wore every day
• His handwritten notes in the margins of a favorite book
• The flannel shirt that still smells like cedar and aftershave

These can become part of your healing space — displayed, preserved, or simply held close when the ache comes calling. You might even create a memory chest, a curated collection of his essence, to visit when you need it most.

Step 5: Invite Help — Carefully

Some things are easier to sort through with a trusted friend, sibling, or even a grief counselor. But choose this person wisely. You need someone who won’t rush you, dismiss your tears, or hand you trash bags like it’s a chore. Ask someone who understands that this is a heart-work, not housework.

Step 6: When You’re Just Not Ready — Wait

Let me say it again: there is no rush. If the closet stays just as he left it for the next two years, that’s okay. If the nightstand remains untouched, that’s okay. You are not “falling behind” in your healing. There is no award for getting it done quickly, and no shame in waiting for your heart to soften in its own time.

Parting Thought: Love Doesn’t Live in the Drawer

You may keep it all. You may give it all away. You may land somewhere in between. But hear this truth: His love is not in the sweater. It’s in you. What you keep or release does not define your grief, your strength, or your love. That love is already written into the way you breathe, the way you remember, the way you carry him forward — quietly, in your own way.

So if you’re staring at his things and whispering, “I’m not ready,” — I hope you hear this reply:

“That’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to be.”