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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" href="http://www.babble.com/CS/utility/FeedStylesheets/rss.xsl" media="screen"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:slash="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/slash/" xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"><channel><title>What remains</title><link>http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/homework/archive/2008/11/14/death_2C00_-katie-allison-granju.aspx</link><description>As those of you who read my personal blog know, my beloved father died very suddenly on September 6. My brother and sister and I have been slowly going through his things together, and it&amp;#39;s a task that&amp;#39;s been both heartbreaking and also really</description><dc:language>en</dc:language><generator>CommunityServer 2007.1 (Build: 20910.1126)</generator><item><title>re: What remains</title><link>http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/homework/archive/2008/11/14/death_2C00_-katie-allison-granju.aspx#147565</link><pubDate>Tue, 18 Nov 2008 05:14:18 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">42a08a39-daf3-4129-8a63-8a27b879cc03:147565</guid><dc:creator>spiney</dc:creator><description>&lt;p&gt;In my closet I have dead people's clothes hanging:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Two shirts and a set of coveralls (my maternal grandfather's)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;a polyester blouse (my maternal grandmother's)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;a 50's skirt and a 70's party dress (that looks like a quilt) (my mother's)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;and a couple of dress shirts (my dad's - he's not dead yet, but they were his when I was a kid)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It just makes me happy to see them there when I'm in the closet looking for something to wear.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I used to wear my grandfather's and Dad's old shirts, but they don't fit me any more. (and, no, the dresses never fit me. Not that I tried to see if they did. As far as you know).&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;img src="http://www.babble.com/CS/aggbug.aspx?PostID=147565" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>re: What remains</title><link>http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/homework/archive/2008/11/14/death_2C00_-katie-allison-granju.aspx#146908</link><pubDate>Sat, 15 Nov 2008 17:30:41 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">42a08a39-daf3-4129-8a63-8a27b879cc03:146908</guid><dc:creator>Dewi</dc:creator><description>&lt;p&gt;I too thought immediately about the Holocaust Museum exhibit of shoes,and hairbrushes. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Katie, It is heartbreaking. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Everyday I'm grateful I still have my parents.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;img src="http://www.babble.com/CS/aggbug.aspx?PostID=146908" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>re: What remains</title><link>http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/homework/archive/2008/11/14/death_2C00_-katie-allison-granju.aspx#146730</link><pubDate>Fri, 14 Nov 2008 21:59:16 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">42a08a39-daf3-4129-8a63-8a27b879cc03:146730</guid><dc:creator>Suzanne</dc:creator><description>&lt;p&gt;It's funny the stuff that gets to you. For me it was seeing my father's signature on different documents and receipts, over time. As he got sicker you could tell by his handwriting how hard it had become for him to simply sign his name. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Your example of shoes made me think of the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C... The piles of shoes and other personal items are very moving.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;img src="http://www.babble.com/CS/aggbug.aspx?PostID=146730" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>re: What remains</title><link>http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/homework/archive/2008/11/14/death_2C00_-katie-allison-granju.aspx#146699</link><pubDate>Fri, 14 Nov 2008 20:54:24 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">42a08a39-daf3-4129-8a63-8a27b879cc03:146699</guid><dc:creator>Kelly</dc:creator><description>&lt;p&gt;Perhaps it will be of some comfort when some of these items can go to use in other places, and with other people. That's one motivation for moving the things down the line. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;How are you working on this task with your father's wife? Does she have first preference, and then to his children? &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My thoughts are with you during this difficult, yet healing time. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;img src="http://www.babble.com/CS/aggbug.aspx?PostID=146699" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>re: What remains</title><link>http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/homework/archive/2008/11/14/death_2C00_-katie-allison-granju.aspx#146654</link><pubDate>Fri, 14 Nov 2008 19:36:40 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">42a08a39-daf3-4129-8a63-8a27b879cc03:146654</guid><dc:creator>Allison</dc:creator><description>&lt;p&gt;When my first husband died suddenly, I avoided going through his clothes for almost six months. There's something so personal about garments (I totally hear you on the shoes) and to commit to doing something with the clothes is to really come to terms with the finality of death. They're no longer needed. Crushing. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;img src="http://www.babble.com/CS/aggbug.aspx?PostID=146654" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>re: What remains</title><link>http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/homework/archive/2008/11/14/death_2C00_-katie-allison-granju.aspx#146603</link><pubDate>Fri, 14 Nov 2008 18:02:54 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">42a08a39-daf3-4129-8a63-8a27b879cc03:146603</guid><dc:creator>mombo</dc:creator><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;...the junk and the glory...&amp;quot; Very well put.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My dad died nearly 10 years ago. I wish I had held onto a box of ordinary items like that, just to remember.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; I'm so sorry for your loss. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;img src="http://www.babble.com/CS/aggbug.aspx?PostID=146603" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>re: What remains</title><link>http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/homework/archive/2008/11/14/death_2C00_-katie-allison-granju.aspx#146593</link><pubDate>Fri, 14 Nov 2008 17:46:19 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">42a08a39-daf3-4129-8a63-8a27b879cc03:146593</guid><dc:creator>Erika (uumomma)</dc:creator><description>&lt;p&gt;going though daddies things was so very hard&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;be good to your self&lt;/p&gt;
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