25/06/2026
🪦🪽He’s been gone for six years today 💔
I’ve always held onto old cards, notes, and handwritten letters, shoeboxes and folders full 📦, because you never know how meaningful a crinkly old note might become, capturing a time, place, feeling, and memory I’m not ready to lose.
I still have a note Dad scribbled on the back of an old manila envelope left in the junk drawer before heading off to work. “Have a great day Kate, I love you. Dad” ❤️. Paper was never wasted in our house, so envelopes and receipts became his standard notepad 📝.
I don’t read it often because it stirs something deep in me. But every time I do, I can hear his voice so clearly even though it has been years since I’ve heard him speak 🎧. For this reason, I’m grateful I’ve always been a sentimental hoarder.
Grief changes with time. It never disappears. Your life just slowly grows around it 🌱.
Losing Dad so suddenly from iatrogenic causes changed the course of my life. It sparked my interest in natural medicine 🌿 and helping people understand that, where appropriate, they have options outside of stock standard pharmaceuticals and the risks they can sometimes bring.
Sentimental hoarding is not something everyone relates to, but for some, those little keepsakes carry a lot of emotional weight 💭. Sometimes, these patterns can offer gentle clues about how someone processes grief or connection, and they can even guide a homeopath to remedy choices like Natrum muriaticum, Carcinosin, or Ignatia. It’s a reminder that even the smallest details can hold deep meaning.
So now I’m curious 🤔.
Are you someone who keeps old cards, letters, and handwritten notes from the people you love? Or do you happily let them go?
