Like Kat Lister, I too faced the dilemma of making our home solely mine after the death of my husband (After my husband’s death, I papered over my grief with posters and pictures. No more, 23 August). The wretchedness of parting with his clothes – and, most poignantly, his shoes – was truly awful. After that horror, my biggest dilemma was his library of books, collected over a lifetime, none particularly valuable and mostly sourced from secondhand bookshops. It took me a year to galvanise myself to action, returning many to charity shops and selling others for a pittance to dealers. It felt like an immense betrayal, but I knew I had to make our once-shared space my own. I kept only the books he’d influenced me to read and enjoyed, but was pleasantly surprised to find the shelves contained a number of my own that I’d forgotten. Three years on, I’m living in a new town. True it’s in an area we knew and loved together, but the space is mine to configure. It will contain elements of the past, but I will not be in too much of a hurry to decorate. I’ll wait to see who I am now and what evolves. Pauline Cavie Seaford, East Sussex I was so relieved to read Kat Lister’s piece about papering over grief. My husband died in February, and I sit here listening to the builders, who are ripping out the bathroom, to be replaced with a new one. I have repainted our bedroom, had favourite pictures framed, hung more pictures than I realised I had, and I am, in my head, replanting the garden and growing vegetables. I feel seen, grief-stricken, but for the first time since he died I think I’m not alone. Thank you. Beverley McEvoy Twickenham, London