Just in case anyone cares, my house is haunted.  I know that may seem a little disturbing to some of you, especially if you were planning a visit (which is highly unlikely), but I felt the need to forewarn anyone who might take it into their heads to arrive unexpectedly.  (Please don’t.)

And how, you may ask, do I know this to be true?  Because I see the signs everywhere . . . lurking in the corners, hovering around the windows, sprawled across most every flat surface in the house.  Truly, the ghost of Christmas past has overtaken my home and refuses to depart. Ok.  That’s probably a little overly dramatic.  But yes, all my Christmas stuff is still up . . . and out . . . and hanging everywhere.  Almost all the trees are still intact although the cats are becoming braver about messing with the ornaments and ribbons.  The stockings are still hung by the chimney with care, except for Joe’s and his is draped over a nearby chair.  Everywhere I look—‘cause  everything gets Christmased at our house—it is still visible, unboxed and displayed in all it’s now inappropriately seasoned glory.

One of these days I’ll be home long enough to do some significant unChristmasing.  I have managed a tad, but not enough to be noticeable.  One of these days I’ll have the energy to drag all the boxes and bags out of the attic and pack everything away so it can patiently wait for the next unveiling.  But until then, we’ll just live with it and maybe pretend it isn’t there, which is a little difficult when the first thing you see is the wreath on the door and the eight and a half foot tree that blocks your line of sight to the living room beyond.

And why, you may ask, should you even care?  Actually, you shouldn’t, so if you were feeling guilty because you were not feeling somewhat sympathetic, don’t worry about it.  I only mentioned the continued presence of Christmas at my house as a lead in to my ultimate point.  Every day untold numbers of people walk into homes that are haunted by the ghosts of those they have loved.  Pictures are scattered everywhere, the favored recliner is still sitting across from the TV, the closet is still filled with clothes that are no longer worn.  Tangible reminders continue to collect dust but something keeps us from removing them.  Maybe it is a lack of time that forces us to walk among them.  Perhaps it is a lack of energy; grief can be overwhelming and, in some instances, will suck the life right out of you.  And maybe there is a kind of comfort to be found in the remembering, even though pain resides there, too.  After all, your life has already been turned upside down and wrong side out.  Why on earth would you want to create even more bare spots in your world?

Whatever the reason rest assured, you don’t have to rush.  Despite what others may try to tell you, packing away someone’s life is not mandatory nor is there a time table by which it must be done.  Unlike Christmas decorations which are probably . . . ok, definitely . . . out of place in July, those things which speak of a person after their departure are acceptable.  Never let anyone tell you otherwise.  Can you become so obsessed with the material possessions of the dead that they overwhelm the living?  Of course.  But as long as you understand them for what they are—a connection to a time and a person that you miss deeply—and not the embodiment of the person themselves, then the boxes can just stay empty a while longer.  To rush the process and quickly remove every reminder is to deny the loss and the grief that follows.  As time passes, the need for their material possessions will lessen and the day will come when you can comfortably clean out their dresser drawers and confiscate their closet space.  You will know when that time is right—and  for some it may never be—but everyone’s timing is different and no one should ever be made to feel there is something wrong with them because they aren’t operating on someone else’s schedule.

The post My House is Haunted appeared first on Shackelford Funeral Directors | Blog.