Max's Room.

Max had his room mostly packed up because he was leaving for college in two weeks.  The night he was killed, he was transporting his bed to KC and picking up a futon, so his room is essentially empty.  When Max first died, I tore the house apart gathering up everything that belonged to him.  Every drawer, every closet, every box - anything that he touched, wrote on, played with, that meant something to him - it all went in his bedroom.  I didn't want to lose it!!  

Slowly, some things have come out of his room and been integrated into our house.  As a way to keep him around us.  As a way to remember his life details and not his death.  Different family members have laid claim to items ... his i pod, his laptop, his clothing.  But his room essentially remains the way it was. 

I've been in there probably a hundred times.  I sit with his stuff, close my eyes, try to see if his smell is still there in some small way.  I look around at the things that are randomly placed on his shelf.  There probably isn't anything in his room that I haven't touched, or held, or read, or caressed.  When I was newly bereaved, it was a way to stay with him.  

We have started (very tentatively) discussing as a family taking in a foreign exchange student next year.  My main hang up is that Max's room would have a teenager in it again.  I can easily pack up his stuff and put it in the store room, I don't have to sort it or get rid of any of it.  But how strange is that?  And how right is that?  To have noise and happiness coming from that room again?  I have very mixed emotions.  Wesley has expressed for some time that he is ready for Max's room to be packed up.  Todd & I have been much less ready to even entertain the idea.  It's a big tangible way of admitting that kid is not coming home.  I know many other grieving parents who have made it through this step and I know there is no rush.   I fully realize that is only "stuff", that even without ANY of it, I will still have Max with me.  No amount of time will take away the love and memories I have of him.  I live in the 'acceptance' phase of grief most of the time, but messing with his room throws me back into denial and depression, big time.  Is it time?   The opinions and advice are as varied as the moments in a day.   We are going to a family counseling session to talk through this concept tomorrow.  And of course, I can't sleep tonight.  Grief stinks.