I heard a Talking Head on the news pontificating the other day about how people should remember that the California fires are destroying only things and so long as the humans are alive, all should be fine. And I got really angry because I like my things. I like knowing that the afghan that my mom so terribly knitted for me is on the top shelf of the linen closet when I want it. I like having 40 different shades of lipsticks. I don’t think people should be told not to grieve for their things.
There’s an undeniable ache that comes with losing the physical reminders of our lives. Things aren’t just “things”—they’re touchstones of memory, meaning, and comfort.
One of our staff members has family in California whose home is now nothing but ashes. She shared that they are in a fog, struggling to grasp the enormity of their loss as they work through applications and logistics of where and how to start over. This fog isn’t just about being overwhelmed—it’s the emotional weight of losing the things that tethered them to their childhoods and the life they built together.
The fog of grief is a heavy, disorienting thing. When you lose the physical reminders of your life—whether it’s a home, a treasured heirloom, or even the mundane items that fill your daily routines—you lose more than just objects. You lose the framework that helped define your identity and your connection to the people and memories you love. This fog isn’t easily cleared. It’s a process of trying to make sense of what’s left when the tangible markers of your life are gone. The grief for things is often dismissed, but it’s very real. These objects—a sea glass collection built over many happy years and trips, photo albums, artwork chosen together, mementos from family vacations—they’re the scaffolding of our lives. Losing them can feel like losing part of yourself.
It’s okay to grieve for the things that mattered to you. Grief is grief, whether it’s for a person, a pet, a place, or the things written off as “just stuff.” And in that fog, it’s important to take things one small step at a time and to remember that grief is not linear.
If you or someone you know is navigating this loss, remember: the fog eventually will lift. New memories will be made, new items will find meaning, and life will move forward.
In the meantime, remember if you ask, “what do you need?” your person most likely will not know a good answer. Instead, consider sending electronic gift cards, offering to collect donations, organizing Door Dash meals, or naming a particular, practical task to lighten the load.