They don't tell you that grief is heavy - and so are the boxes. The dresser, the basement, the garage ... it all becomes a battlefield between love and loss. And when you're asked to clean it up, you're not just sorting objects. You're navigating heartbreak. Every item has a voice. The sweater that still smells like them The unopened birthday cards The old high school trophies that felt silly, but now feel sacred You hesitate. You cry. You save things you never meant to keep,

After the funeral ends and the calls slow down, you're left standing in a room full of their things. Clothing still carrying their scent....