They are the treasured items that encapsulate your narrative: photographs of cherished friends and relatives, the ring gifted by your mother, hand-knit Christmas stockings, your grandfather’s old secretary desk, and the heartfelt letters hidden within it. When disaster strikes, it’s often these irreplaceable pieces of personal history that are the hardest to part with.
Martha Tecca, whose home in Lyme, New Hampshire, was engulfed in flames a decade ago, vividly remembers the loss. “It still hits me now — a picture of my dad that my grandmother painted, which was hanging on the wall by the piano,” she shares, reflecting on an afternoon when she and her husband were hiking and lost everything except the clothes they wore. “The generational items — those are what you mourn the most,” she adds.
While the loss of personal belongings can be painful, it’s critical to recognize that there are others facing far worse circumstances due to increasingly severe natural disasters such as wildfires, hurricanes, and floods. Yet, these family heirlooms and handmade mementos carry a unique value. So how can one cope with the loss of such cherished items, and perhaps find a way to reclaim some of those lost memories?
Understanding the grieving process is essential. “Grief is the natural response to loss, whatever that loss may be,” states Mary-Frances O’Connor, a psychology professor who authored “The Grieving Body: How the Stress of Loss Can Be an Opportunity for Healing.” She emphasizes that objects serve as significant cues for cherished memories, culture, and social interactions. It takes time to process how the absence of these objects influences our lives.
After experiencing the aftermath of a disaster, urgent tasks like securing temporary housing and filing insurance claims can overshadow the emotional impact of losing sentimental items. Barbara Lambert, whose home was devastated by Hurricane Ida in 2021, describes her approach: she allowed herself to refrain from searching for every lost item, not wanting to evoke sadness over forgotten possessions. While she saved important documents and jewelry as water engulfed her home, cherished relics like scrapbooks and her son’s elementary school artwork were ruined. “It’s very overwhelming, devastating, but you realize what you really need to get through life,” she reflects.
Looking to the community can provide comfort during these trying times. Jenny Mackenzie’s residence in Peacham, Vermont, was also swept away by floods from Hurricane Beryl in 2024. Despite retrieving some belongings, including her daughters’ stuffed animals, the biggest loss was a handmade canoe, a token from her college graduation. Tragically, two weeks later, she discovered it in pieces along the river.
Without the support of her neighbors and friends, Jenny admits she would’ve given up on salvaging belongings from her mud-filled home. “Over 60 people shoveling mud and passing our possessions across the river,” she recalls gratefully. O’Connor highlights that such shared experiences foster a sense of community loss and resilience, emphasizing the significance of collective mourning.
In a show of compassion, friends across the country sent photographs to help fill the gaps in Tecca’s memories, while another friend gifted them new copies of their college diplomas. “In terms of things, we ended up getting more than we lost,” she affirms, illustrating the power of community support.
Jack Pitney faced a similar struggle when a mudslide hit his Glendale, California home in 2005, burying his son’s toys. The only toy left was one bought that day. Pitney recalls, “For a 2-year-old, there is no such thing as an unimportant toy.” Thanks to supportive friends and colleagues bringing toys from their own homes, his son received a welcome distraction during a difficult time.
While personal belongings hold great importance due to the stories they tell, they are not the sole narrative of our lives. “The stuff is just a vehicle for the stories,” notes Matt Paxton, a decluttering expert and author. Even for those who have recently lost cherished items, capturing the essence of their experiences can aid in healing. He recommends documenting the stories behind lost possessions and using apps to preserve what once was. “The oldest story in the book is telling stories and passing them on — that’s why it hurts so much when we lose them,” he explains.
Experts advocate for digital preservation but acknowledge the emotional ties that physical items create. Jennifer Talarico, a psychology professor, explains that while visuals are impactful, human experiences are multi-faceted. The sensory connection with objects has deep meaning, as demonstrated by one family preserving their grandmother’s remote control, a reminder of cozy “Jeopardy!” nights.
Despite the overwhelming loss, many survivors reflect on the silver linings that emerge post-disaster. Lambert notes, “there was something a little bit freeing, free of having all that stuff.” Transitioning to a new environment and accumulating new items often signifies moving forward. Talarico reassures that while mourning is natural, new memories will replace the old.
Tecca now inhabits a different town and finds value in the thoughtful gifts from friends. “Every piece in our house at the moment is something someone gave us, or that we intentionally got,” she shares, highlighting how these items have new stories attached to them. “The things become precious, the things you now fill your house with.”
