I've spent the last two days at the house, cleaning and sorting and tidying up. By the time I sorted out the stuff I got out of the house on Weds, I was left with a third of a plastic wheelie box of bits and pieces, some of which were damaged but had sentimental value, so I kept them. Most of what I got out was irreparably damaged. Over 80% went in the bin. Such is life.
Today, I cleaned up the back yard. I put everything away. I moved all the rubbish to the back of the house for the skips, when they ever turn up (I'm still waiting on the insurance company... sigh). Then I mowed. It looks neat now. And tomorrow and Sunday, weather permitting, I'll go in and weed the side and back beds and neaten them up too.
And sort through the small garden shed. Everything that is rubbish or I'm not going to ever use again will go. I don't want to carry this load any longer. I want to unburden myself and let it all go.
I have a small shed down the back - 3 metres by 2 metres. It's not half full but will be by the time I get everything I've saved into it. My life condensed into approximately 2x1 metres. And I still have to sort through all that again, because most of it was put in there when I was still attached to it, still horribly emotional about 'saving' it. So I put it there for when I could think again. I'm not there yet. I'm still reeling in shock. But the time will come when I can go into the shed and look and sort without the attachment. Without the dreadful pain of loss. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not Sunday. Probably not next week. But one day, I will be able to do that.