And I’m not counting things like what you do or get when you grow up like having a bank account or getting a real job. Nor am I accepting the whole ‘I just grew up’.
My sign of my childhood ending or accepting that it has ended is when all of the nu-metal bands I was introduced to and listened to a lot of us just ended up fractured. They all didn’t endure the passage of time and it was really just a matter of you had to be there to know how popular they were or the scene was.
The bands I used to have listened to have gone the way of Classic Rock on the radio. Spammed tracks from some bands because that’s all the DJ knows or that’s all they’re allowed to play.
Fuck. I am so sorry. Being that age and having to take care of everything is just rough. All the death certificates, cancelling services, funeral, house, car, and a million other details while you are still coming to terms that they are just gone. I just sort of went on autopilot and then spent the next 2 years a total complete mess. I am 37 now and it still fucking hurts.
The one dumb thing that helped me grieve was to just talk to him. I used to call my dad everyday on my 25 minute drive home to work. So, I would pretend he was in the car with me and I would just talk to him.
All I can say is cherish the few mementos you really care about and don’t drive yourself insane on trying to hold on to every item they owned. Scan pictures. Get help and talk to someone. Get someone removed from the situation to help you clean things out. I paid a random handyman a friend had around a couple hundred dollars to just take care of the parts I couldn’t handle (dead body things…) and donated a bunch of items that flat out had no value to me.