Invading personal space

None of us like to have our space invaded. Yet since the loss of My Brenna, I find myself having to do just that, invade the space that once was hers. It is so hard to do. At times I feel guilty. Other times, like today, I feel a great depth of sadness creep over me. It doesn't help that it is raining hard and has been all night. The skies are grey and sort of fit my mood today.

It was different after my husband died. We had been married almost 28 years. I opened his closet and drawers all the time. I knew what was in his shop. I knew what was in his tackle box. When you are married, you really don't have a lot of "space" to call your own. Eventually cleaning out his closet and drawers only brought me one big surprise, actually a shocker, but I'll deal with that in another blog, if I decide to reveal what my beloved husband, tired of being ill for so long, had hidden on the top shelf of his closet.

This morning I was sorting again and ran across Brenna's collection of silver dollars. Value? The six that were made in the 1880s have a low value of $15 each. I give them the low value because they ARE used and I didn't want to presume they might be worth the higher values. There are seven more made in the 1920s with a low value of $15 each. The stack of Eisenhower dollors are only worth $1.25 each and the Sakajawea and Susan B. Anthony dollors are only worth face value.

These are Brenna's. I have no use for them but here I sit, wondering what to do with them now. I feel like a thief even thinking about it. I have invaded her space. She was saving them because they are a piece of American history, not because of their value. She liked saving things like that.

For now, I will probably put them back in their box. Meanwhile, I will toss around an idea that is in the back of my head. Something I think Brenna would want me to do.

When you read Condemned to Die: Ask me how. Tell me why, you will understand Brenna's tipping policy and why I think the idea in my head is what she would really want me to do with them.

She really did teach me more than I ever taught her.