Unpacking and hiding the memories away

Some experiences are to be treasured, photographed, talked about around the dinner table, and remembered for years.  Others are pushed deep down inside, hidden away, and locked from the heart.
They are so emotionally awful that you go out of your way to not remember them.  But, sometimes, they creep up.  Like when you are trying to fall asleep and all you can play in your mind is that experience.  Then you end up crying yourself to sleep.  Other times they unexpectedly hit when you are cleaning and find related objects that slams your heart to pieces again.
Sweet's gifts and cards and things from the hospital stay over the summer were Godsends.  They uplifted her heart, gave her joy in that time of stress, and let her know how much everyone loves her.  They kept her busy for hours in that boring place. She cried at the love and caring others sent.
We packed them up with us in a big gift bag and brought them home.  We put them in her room, and there they sat, untouched.  Eventually the bag got moved to her walk in closet.  When she was bored, I told her to go get out some of the lovely gifts to play with.  She declined......every time.  Eventually I put two and two together.  She didn't want to look at the gifts because it reminded her of her most awful experience on this earth this far. Memories of the day and time that changed her life so dramatically forever.  Of the week she went into the hospital one person, and came out another.
One day I tried to clean out the closet, I looked at the bag, and the pit immediately formed in my stomach. I totally understood her then.  I didn't want to clean it out either.  I just shut the door and left.  We hardly ever go into the closet.  It's a huge mess, a room not used anymore.  I need to put the laundry back in there, it needs to be cleaned.  Which means, I have to do something with the bag of stuff.  I will have to go through it.  Today is the day for me to clean it, to remember. Of course I will cry.  I might break down.  I might hyperventilate.  But, I will lock the cards and gifts away from her.  Not to be seen, until the time when she can begin to heal from the emotional trauma.  When we can pull them out, and remember again, all the love our friends and neighbors and family gave us at that time instead of the awfulness.

p.s.~ on a strange discovery, the stuffed animals she recieved in the hospital, for some reason, do not provoke these feelings. They are all on her bed and slept with every night.  Also, the gifts she recieved from family and friends upon her return home are not catergorized in this either.
p.p.s.~ Again, thank you to all who sent cards, flowers, and gifts to cheer up our Sweets.  We love you.