16 - Todd's Room

Kay Heitsch

As the days went by, I found myself going to Todd's room. I hadn't changed anything and left it as it was.

Todd had a king-size water bed. I would get Todd's Letterman jacket and hold it while lying on the bed. I could still smell Todd. As I held his coat close to my face, silent tears would roll down my cheeks.

Todd's classmates started to stop by the house. I'm sure it was difficult. We were all hurting. Some came alone and others came in groups. I felt comforted that they were thinking about Todd.

After talking for a short while, I invited them to Todd's room. I told Todd's friends to look around the room, and if there was anything they wanted, they could have it after showing me what they chose. I then left them alone with their thoughts and memories, and I went upstairs.

Some kids stayed quite a while, while others didn't. We all grieve differently.

What surprised me was the things of Todds' they wanted. Some took a picture that Todd had made, while others took shirts or sweatshirts.

But the most surprising was a spike out of Todd's running shoes. I can not tell you what an impact choosing only a spike had on me.

What I learned from this was that material things seemed to occupy a significant amount of attention in life. Now, I could see what really mattered was our memories.