It's how I feel. The loft is still full of her stuff, as is the summerhouse. The house is still full of her decor choices, and I have asked over and over to change things, I've asked over and over to get rid of some things and I'm still waiting. I don't feel like I can do it myself in case it upsets the children. When I am constantly coming across her stuff, constantly looking out at the garden and seeing her stuff, how am I meant to feel like this is my home? When there is more of her stuff here then there is mine?
