Two years after losing my little boy, the few belongings he left behind meant everything to me. Inside a small cedar chest were his hoodie, tiny sneakers, favorite drawings, and a silver bracelet that once belonged to my grandmother. That chest was my way of feeling close to him — a quiet reminder of the laughter and love that once filled our home.
My son Caleb was only five, full of life and curiosity. Losing him changed everything. The days felt slower, the world quieter. Sometimes I’d open the cedar chest just to hold his things and breathe in the faint trace of his bubblegum shampoo. Those moments, though painful, gave me comfort when nothing else could.
My mother-in-law, Lorraine, never really understood that grief has no timeline. She often told me it wasn’t healthy to keep his belongings and that I should “move on.” I tried to ignore the comments until the day I came home and realized the chest — and all of Caleb’s things — were gone. She had decided to throw them away, believing it would somehow help me heal.
Finding out what she had done broke something inside me. I felt anger and sadness all at once, but instead of letting bitterness take over, I decided to focus on what truly mattered — protecting Caleb’s memory. I salvaged what I could and spent the evening gently cleaning each piece, reminding myself that love doesn’t live in objects, but in the heart that remembers.
Not long after, I noticed something else missing — a small silver bracelet that had been inside the chest. When I later learned it had been sold, it hurt deeply. Yet that pain also became a turning point. I realized I didn’t need anyone’s approval to grieve in my own way. The love between a parent and a child is something no one can take or throw away.
In time, my husband and I created a small memorial space in our garden where we could sit and feel close to Caleb. The cedar chest now rests there, safe and surrounded by flowers. Losing him will always leave an empty place in my heart, but that space is also filled with love — a love that continues quietly, even after goodbye.