Grief & Grace: Holding On and Letting Go
- Sherrie Andrews-Heavey
- Oct 2
- 4 min read
When someone you love dies, you aren’t just left with memories—you’re also left with their things. The room they slept in, the clothes hanging in their closet, the books stacked on their nightstand. Sometimes it feels like if you keep everything just the way it was, you’re keeping them close. And sometimes, the very sight of those belongings makes your heart ache in ways you can’t put into words.
It raises questions so many of us wrestle with:
How long do I keep their things? When do I change their room? Is there such a thing as too long—or not long enough? And if I let go… will it feel like losing them all over again?
The truth is—there is no rulebook.
The Weight of Belongings
Each item carries meaning. A favorite sweater still holding their scent. A coffee cup they always reached for. A drawer of letters in their handwriting. These things are not just “things.” They are threads of connection. That’s why deciding what to keep or release can feel impossible.
Holding on doesn’t mean you’re “stuck.” Letting go doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten.
No Timeline, Only Your Own
Some people clear rooms right away, as if to soften the sharp edges of loss. Others leave everything as it was for months—or years—because touching it feels like touching a wound. Both choices are valid. There is no calendar that says, “now is the time.”
Grief asks us to listen inward. What feels loving for you? What feels safe?
The Guilt of Letting Go
Many people feel guilt when the time comes to donate clothes, pack away belongings, or repurpose a space. It can feel like erasing the person, or like betraying their memory. But love is not stored in drawers and closets.
The bond you share doesn’t vanish when the items do. Love is bigger. It lives in your heartbeat, in your breath, in the way you carry their memory into each new day.
My Own Journey of Choosing
For me, I kept all of our pictures—those captured moments are still treasures I lean on. I saved one of Russ’s shirts, and the knives he collected, which I later passed on to our daughter Sonja. For Ariel, I couldn’t part with her Daisy Girl Scout cup, her soccer shin guards, and the little “Ariel” Beanie Baby.
I didn’t keep everything, but I chose the things that carried the essence of who they were—pieces that still whisper their presence to me today. And letting go of the rest didn’t mean letting go of them. It simply made space for life to keep moving while love stayed rooted in my heart.
Finding a Gentle Balance
You don’t need to keep everything, nor do you need to release it all. Sometimes the middle path feels best:
Keep one or two sacred items that hold the deepest meaning.
Repurpose something: a quilt from shirts, a favorite mug you use daily, a frame for their handwriting.
Release with ritual: when you donate or give away an item, pause and thank it for the memories it holds.
A home is not a mausoleum—it is a living space for those still here. Creating space for yourself is not dishonoring your loved one. It is allowing both grief and life to breathe together.
Grief & Grace Practice: The Holding & Releasing Ritual
Find one belonging of your loved one that feels heavy to hold onto.
Sit quietly with it in your hands.
Close your eyes and speak aloud a memory connected to that item.
Place your hand over your heart and whisper: “The love remains, even if the item goes.”
Choose: keep, repurpose, gift, or release.
Even this small act can ease the burden and remind you—you are not letting go of love. You are simply choosing how it lives with you.
Closing Thought
Grief doesn’t come with a map. There’s no right or wrong way to carry the belongings of someone you’ve lost. You are allowed to keep what comforts you. You are allowed to release what weighs you down. And most of all—you are allowed to trust that love never leaves, no matter what you choose.
Because in every breath, every memory, every step forward—your love walks with you.
Grief doesn’t give us a timeline for holding on or letting go—it’s a tender balance we each must walk in our own way. If you’re looking for a gentle companion to help you navigate those steps, the Grief & Grace Workbooks were created with you in mind.
Whether you need a small, steady guide to hold space for your emotions, or a deeper companion to walk with you through the layers of loss, you’ll find a resource designed to meet you where you are.
And if you feel called to walk with someone who truly understands, my Grief & Grace Sessions are available to offer heart-centered support—whether for a single moment of comfort or an ongoing space to share your journey.
Take your time. When you’re ready, the workbooks and sessions are here to remind you that you don’t have to carry this alone.
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