It’s Just a Backpack, right?

My stepson was wrapping up his fall semester at college when he told his dad he needed a new backpack.  He asked if he could have the white backpack that Connor had gotten for Christmas the year before – his last Christmas. 

The backpack sat in the back seat of Connor’s car for months after he died.   I couldn’t bring myself to change anything.  I wanted it to stay as he’d last had it.  I eventually took it out and cleaned out the protein bar wrappers, school notes and an inordinate number of pens.  I moved it to the bins with all his other stuff that I couldn’t bring myself to do anything with. 

When the request for his backpack came, it should’ve been an easy “of course”, but instead my first reaction was pause.  I said I didn’t know.  I was shocked at my own response.  It was a backpack for crying out loud.   But it represented something Connor had wanted and was thrilled to get on Christmas morning.  I still remember his big smile when he opened it. 

I remember thinking how I needed to come to grips with the fact that the “things” Connor loved are also things that others can use and enjoy in memory of him.  The fact that his stepbrother asked specifically for that backpack meant something and I was not going to deny him from having a piece of Connor.

I pulled out the backpack and started to clean up some of the scuffs on it (it was white after all) but then decided that it may be appreciated more as it was last used.   I hope the backpack gets lots of use and brings some semblance of joy.  ∞

Have you ever gotten weird about someone asking for something from your child?