As all women with widowers know, “her” stuff can be a source of irritation, pain, arguments, and . . . well, just general unpleasantness.  I have told Superman that the house needs to be in order with her stuff dealt with before I can move in, and with the wedding fast approaching I had been getting concerned.

Until he called me a few days ago and announced he’d prepared a place in the garage for my car.  Her car had issues, and had just been sitting there waiting for the late wife’s sister to pick up and fix.  Well, she hadn’t been following through, so he had it hauled out so I’d be able to park in the garage.

And then the next time I was at the house, he said he’d been working on sorting through her stuff and preparing the master bedroom.  I was pleasantly surprised, as it had been a little while since I had mentioned this issue.  So her stuff is finally cleared out of the shelf beside the bed and there’s only one remaining box of her clothes in the closet.  He said he’s sorting through stuff and limiting things to 3 boxes he’ll keep in the basement, besides the pictures that are already up of her and Superboy.

Generally speaking, I was very encouraged.  Since it’s still mid-process, it’s a little unnerving to me when I come across her drivers license or other personal affects that had been in drawers, but he has out because he’s sorting. 

On the other side of things, we are starting to pack up my house and decide what we are keeping.  Even though he has a lot of kitchen stuff, etc., I find myself wanting to keep stuff just because it’s mine.  It would clutter the kitchen, it all functions the same, but part of me just wants to have my own stuff and not all things that belonged to the two of them together.  Kinda crazy to think of holding onto a stainless steel mixing bowl just because I was the original owner when he has probably 4+ bowls.  But then again, not really.  I know I need to keep some things to make it feel like my house and not just a house I live in.

Blending households, blending families . . . I look forward to the day when things are seamless.