Memories won't rinse out in the wash

After Brian died, it took me several weeks before I washed the bed sheets.

As I lay in bed at night in the days after his death, I could roll over and still smell him on his pillowcase. For a second, I could pretend he was still there, and maybe he had gotten up to use the bathroom or was dozing off to a TV show in the living room.

When the reality hit me that he wasn’t still here, and he wasn’t coming back, I felt like I had something of him that I could cling to.

Days rolled into weeks, and the sheets stayed unwashed. I’d wake up in the morning (or in the middle of the night, or several times in between) and tell myself that I needed to launder them, but I kept putting it off.

Then one day, I came inside after doing some yard work and, feeling sweaty and dirty, I headed straight to the shower. It dawned on me how senseless it would be for my freshly showered self to crawl into dirty bedsheets. I went to the bedroom, looked at the bed and saw the bedsheets for what they really were – dirty laundry.

And so, I stripped the bed down and threw the sheets and pillow cases in the washing machine. That night, I curled up in bed and savored the clean, fresh feeling of newly washed sheets.

I discovered that letting my sheets go unwashed probably wasn’t the best way to honor Brian. There are plenty of other reminders of him, and as I continue on this grief journey, I’ll find a better way.

Liz Gotthelf is the publisher of Saco Bay News. She is stumbling through life after the recent and unexpected loss of her husband, and will periodically write columns about it as she processes everything. She can be reached at newsdesk@sacobaynews.com.