I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

I came across this video online where this girl showed viewers her late sister’s bathroom. She writes that her dad has preserved her sister’s bathroom exactly the way she left it. In the video, we can see products haphazardly placed beside the sink, half-used toothpaste in a cup, a bathrobe hanging beside the shower, etc. It looks like a normal bathroom that’s being actively used, except it’s not. It’s a father trying to “freeze time” and preserve his daughter’s presence for as long as he can.

Under the video this girl posted are comments of various people sharing how they tried to “freeze time” and preserve their loved ones’ presence. Let me share some of these stories because there is so much beauty in this form of heartbreak.

“Our son was six months old when he passed away. When the bathroom was steamy from a shower I would put his little hand and foot prints on the mirror. It’s been two years since he passed and his little hand and foot prints still show up after a shower. I haven’t cleaned the mirror to save a little piece of him.”

“My aunt had put a bunch of clean laundry on her bed to put away later, which she never got to do. My uncle left the bed that way and slept on the couch.”

“My brother passed away and the ice cream he had is still in the freezer.”

“When my brother died in 2022, my family left his dirty laundry basket in the laundry room for an entire year. People who don’t understand grief might view this as unhealthy or remaining stuck in the past. But when a loved one dies, you want to hold on to everything.”

“I haven’t touched anything in my mom’s room and it’s been 10 months. The pillows are still on her bed because I thought she was coming back home. I put them just the way she likes them.”

“It’s ok to freeze time if you feel like it.”

Your bedroom, bathroom, and study room are left untouched, exactly the way you left them, and for a while I kept wondering how long we could and should leave them the way you left them. In your study room, there are pieces of a Harry Potter Lego you were in the middle of building. They are still there now – pieces still messily strewn on the table. You were the last person to touch them and no one dares move it. A year ago, I was not ready for it to be moved and worried that someone might come and offer to build it for you. I thought I would feel differently a year later, but I haven’t and don’t think I will anytime soon. I’m still hoping that nothing will move from the positions you left them in.

This video and comments I read was so reassuring. It was so comforting to know that we aren’t alone in this journey and that there are people who are grieving in the same way we are. I’ve heard of people who sell their houses straight after their loved ones pass and I was worried your family would too. I worry that we’d feel the need to pack your clothes up or throw away the products in your bathroom. I worry that someone might come by and say it’s unhealthy to live this way and we’d be obliged to move your things. It has been more than a year, but I’m still hoping your house remains the exact way you left it. It somehow makes me feel closer to you, to step into a space you were once in and see everything you last touched. It makes me feel like you were just recently here, like you just left to go to the gym and I was tasked to babysit your dogs.

I can’t wait to see you again. I love you more, always, and forever.

Love always,
Sha