The little toddler cast in this photo is the one my son Charles wore at 22 months old after breaking his foot. I saved it as a keepsake—something to show him later, something to laugh about someday. It’s a small reminder of a moment when the worst thing that had happened was a broken bone.
I remembered how Charles ran around with it like it was a brand-new running shoe. (Here is a YouTube video of him racing around with it.) You’d never know there was a broken bone under there. You’d never know he was injured at all. He adapted. He kept going. He was still him, funny and cute and always on the go.
When Charles died by suicide at age 20, that little cast took on a completely different meaning—a keepsake I can’t let go of.
Recently, I found myself reflecting on the keepsakes we hold onto after someone we love dies.
The boxes
It’s hard to wrap your head around the idea that a life—your child’s life—can be reduced to two boxes tucked into a spare closet. But someone told me, Think about it as a treasure chest of memories instead. Going through them can feel like knives to the heart. And sometimes it just feels like you are closer to your loved one.
But this cast reminds me of his playfulness, his childhood, his loving self as he cuddled with me after he broke it and how he hopped off the table like nothing happened once the doctor wrapped his foot in plaster. There is that unbearable truth that I don’t get to laugh over it with him and tell him stories.
Keepsakes after loss aren’t just objects. They’re time capsules.
They carry stories, regrets, love, last moments, and lasting memories. Sometimes they comfort us. Sometimes they undo us. But we keep them to feel our loved ones with us.
I have my son’s Superman shoes, the ones he wore when he died.
I have the brown bag with his last belongings, his precious notebooks of rap songs, a little pull toy I bought at a yard sale for 50 cents that was a toddler favorite. And more.
This brings me to the sole reason I wrote this.
What keepsake have you held onto after losing someone you love?
I want to know what you’ve kept after your loved one dies, the stories behind the objects and keepsakes. Maybe you kept the one thing that reminds you of the personality trait that drove you the craziest, the odd duck item that defined them, an item that carried a scent that brought sweet memories, something so beautiful or even ugly you couldn’t bear to let go of it.
Why that item?
What does it mean to you now?
What does it remind you of?
Where do you keep it?
No matter how mundane, ordinary, weird, wild, supernatural, or bizarre, please share what you’ve kept in the comments! It doesn’t have to mean anything or make sense to anyone else. It doesn’t have to be worth lots of money but it has to carry lots of heart and be priceless to you.
The only rule is that it has to be authentic. (And maybe not gross or triggering.)
Sometimes, telling the story of what we keep after our loved one dies helps us feel a little less alone.
Check out what others have saved also on this LinkedIn thread. It is so moving.
Your turn…..
AnneMoss Rogers is a leading wellness and suicide education expert and one of the top mental health speakers and suicide prevention speakers. Known for her powerful, motivational keynotes, AnneMoss combines her personal story of loss with proven strategies to help organizations build a wellness culture that drives results and saves lives. She speaks at conferences, workplaces, K-12 schools, and universities, delivering impactful presentations that inspire change and promote mental health awareness.
AnneMoss does this work in memory of her son, Charles, who struggled with anxiety, depression, and addiction, and died by suicide at age 20 in 2015.
At first I held on to so many of Tara’s things then, over time, I started to let them go, it’s been 5 years now. I have her backpack tat she had with her when she died and use it when I travel. I have her favorite childhood stuffed animal, it reminds me of her when she was a toddler, carefree and happy. I had her many journals which make me feel closer to her when I read them but, also sad. I can’t part with her prom dress, she looked so beautiful that day. It’s all so bittersweet and I so wish that we all could have had a different outcome. I am always grateful for these communities and my support groups as we can’t do this journey alone.
Thank you for sharing Catherine. The prom dress! I don’t think I would be able to part with that either.
13 years later…
I still have all his books in his bookshelf, some of his clothes, his laptop, his papers in a bankers’ box, his photography and some artwork he had bought for his apartment.
I am redoing his room now, after it kept turning into a storage room with piles of stuff that I couldn’t bring myself to go through.
I have cleaned it out several times, getting rid of more stuff each time.
I do have one bin left in the attic of his baby and toddler things.
I am decorating the room in a moody way that he would like if he came to stay.
Love you, AM…
Thank you so much for sharing Gray. I love your ideas. No one can re-do a room like you. You have the eye as my mother would say. She did, too.
Gage wasn’t one who collected many ‘things’ in his life. He had kept some of his favorite childhood toys (action figures which included GI Joes and ones which their names escape me this morning that he played with about ages 4-9 with his sisters. I’ve shared them with them and keep the others in a box, safely tucked into a closet. I occasionally hold them in my hand, hold them close to my heart, and can almost feel his small hands holding mine while I hold these toys. They remind me he had some moments of pure childhood bliss, peace and happiness. I also kept Gage’s dress shirts that he wore to work – many are fun colors! It has been nearly seven years since losing him and I’ve decided I’m ready to cut them up and use them in a quilt I’m going to make for myself. One that I can literally wrap around myself expecially on those days when the ache is especially still heavy to carry. I also made myself a picture board where I use thumb tacks or sewing pins to stick random pictures of him up on this board which hangs above my sewing machine. I can change out the pictures if desired, but the words on the board are: “Getting wind hugs and messages from heaven”. For me personally, seeing his pictures brings me a closeness to him that I have found most comforting. Thanks for the gentle reminder to share these thoughts. Strength to all for the journey. . . .
Thank you so much for sharing. Really. I feel a warm embrace as I read this. I have also thought about a quilt but so many of his clothes are not cotton broadcloth and different textures. I really need to get my fellow sewing friend who is a quilter and get her opinion
I would bet some good money on your friend being able to figure out a way to make you a quilt! I say that because I’ve made a quilt from the kids old levi jeans etc. You would love wrapping yourself in it! Please do it! If you do I hope you share a picture of you wrapped in it. Hugs from afar.
I think you are right. If it’s a t-shirt then I could just use that iron on backing to give it more heft. And I will share when it’s done!
When Cat first died, I packed up everything and stored it. I felt like I needed to be the steward of all the things she so carefully selected in her 24 all too-short years here. Two years later, I started to share some of her things with the people she loved and who loved her. I decided that if they had one of her drawings on their walls or were wearing a necklace or a dress or some other piece of clothing of hers, it would give them the chance to talk about her and keep her story and her life out in the world. Cat was an artist so I’m lucky that I have her paintings hanging in my house. I’m also so very grateful that I kept drawings she did as she was growing up.
I love that Lori. And I did this, too. ” I started to share some of her things with the people she loved and who loved her.” And i did it for the same reasons you did. If they had a piece of Charles then they’d talk about him, think about him, too. Thank you for sharing your heart and Cat. If you ever want to share her artwork, do send me a sample via email.
I meant to comment earlier, so l appreciate the reminder.
I have kept Martin’s baby blanket (now 62 years old), some of his collectable toys that he loved, a lot of his artwork and a huge notice board covered in art-related notes and other emphemia.
I have two of his jackets and his PJs from when he was about 40 (being an artist, these are quite cute with little beavers on them). Photos from his childhood l am also keeping.
But like other folks, l know that l cannot keep everything. Moving things on can definitely feel like a betrayal.
Every time something goes, l just hurts again but a little less than in the early days.
I can so relate to this: “Moving things on can definitely feel like a betrayal.” Like you I don’t feel it like I did early on.
Thank you for sharing. And I would love for you to share a piece of his artwork. You have my email. It might be packed away and if that’s the case I don’t want to trouble you. Thank you for posting. How people remember their loved ones is so moving and connecting to me.
I have a really hard time throwing away my son’s clothes , all his prize possessions! I have packed them to move to another state and now they are in a storage unit , I feel like if I throw his clothes away it’s like I’m betraying him or that I don’t care 🤷♀️ 🥲
I totally understand what you mean. I sent a lot of his things to friends. I posted them and then they would claim it and I would mail the piece of clothing (or object) to them. This can be very time consuming not to mention expensive. But it’s what I did initially for a few things at least.
The dress up box with all their YouTube costumes and props, I donated to their high school drama program. Charles loved it. So little by little I gave things away like that. His winter coat is still worn by my best friend’s son who sent me a photo of it on a ski slope last year.
It does feel as if we are throwing them away. You will do what you need to do when the time is right. Maybe have a memory quilt made. Anyway wr all struggle with it. Thank you for commenting!
My son collected lots and lots of Star War toys (kept in their unopened packages) and WW II model tanks. I kept just one of the small tanks and also a couple of glass cubes with his face in 3D that he had ordered at a college fundraiser. I also HAD to keep his little baby hat from the hospital and a crocheted baby sweater made by his grandmother. I couldn’t keep a lot because we just downsized into an active adult community — and it was very painful for me to both look at and go through all of his collections :( I still can’t go through most of the many boxes of photos . . . it’s been a year only.
Thank you for sharing. That’s so sweet.
And I had a hard time looking at photos at the point you are, too. One day…
much ❤️