Mon, Oct 23/17
Well, Mom? I hope you don't think less of me for it, but I completely chickened out on facing up to this weekend.
Emotions were coming from nowhere and everywhere and I didn't trust myself to be with people. I was going to forge through and face up to it. But (long story, short), I didn't.
I don't think I have run from anything yet. I've walked forward through thick and thin. I've done hard things. I've done easy things. I've done necessary things. But this weekend? The weekend the contents of your home were emptied and divided among us? My heart was not up to the task.
Instead, I stayed home. In every sense of the word. I didn't take one step outside of the door. But I still invited people in. I visited on the phone while I faced the monumental task of going through your books, papers, pictures and miscellanea I have brought home with me.
It was overwhelming. I had no idea which way to turn for a little while. "Your" room looked like it had exploded.
I had no direction to go but forward. So I forged ahead, rifled through papers, pictures, kitchen/bathroom accessories and after one full day, I found my way through and created a semblance of order within the excess.
I was somewhere near the end of this process when Wendy let me know I had only a few hours before they would be delivering that which would become "mine" from your home.
I panicked. I stopped in my tracks and made a light lunch for my brave and strong warriors who took on the lion's share of my work this past weekend and packed up what Wendy felt I should have. Honestly, I would have been content with your sewing machine, ironing board and a mirror. But Wendy had other ideas.
As they emptied the trailer, it felt like there was no end to the furniture they moved into our home.
Once again, I simply panicked. I spun in circles. I moaned and thought "This is too much. I don't have room. It is too much!"
Wendy said (something to the effect of), "Trust me. This is 'you' and you will be glad. I know I'm right. Trust me..."
I begged them to stay for sustenance and thankfully they did. I needed to hear the story of the weekend I had missed. Wendy assured me that I wasn't needed and it was good I had stayed home.
As I spun in circles within the room that contained boxes and suitcases full of your belongings, everyone else dealt with your furniture - your life's accumulation of "wealth" that brought you pleasure within the home you were so insistent in staying in.
Wendy (of course) insisted that we at least place the furniture in its proper room and I would tweak things later. There was little "tweaking" that needed to be done. Other than moving my excess downstairs (I now have a LOT of excess), there were only minor adjustments to be made. Then the magic began.
I stood and gazed at my new/old home. I hadn't made the time to de-junk, move things about, paint &/or rid myself of my own excess before your belongings arrived. I honestly thought I would simply store your furniture downstairs until I had time to clean up and make room for the new. But I didn't.
Even though I did absolutely nothing in preparation for the onslaught of furniture which found its way to my home, once it was arranged all I felt was a warm embrace. I felt "you" within our home. It was peaceful. It was comforting. It was the best I had felt in a good, long while. You were here with me.
I immediately sent off a message to Wendy to thank her for "being right". She knew. I was so grateful she insisted I take in more than your ironing board and mirror.
And do you know what? Wendy was basking in the same "glow" as I had been. "I see Mom everywhere", as she had placed your furnishings within her home and she sounded exactly as I felt.
I hope you can feel the peace that came along with the gentle embrace I felt when I found myself surrounded by "you" and that which you had carefully chosen and enjoyed over the years. I trust I am not alone in this feeling. I hope this has been "divided in four" and each one of us is feeling the sense of having you close to us, as we adorn our homes with that which was carefully selected and special to you.
This house of mine needs a LOT of tender loving care, but it has been accessorized by that which once belonged to you and it feels good. It feels very good. Thank you, Mom.
I wish you were here, sitting at your table and sharing a cup of coffee with me. But this is the next best thing. Sitting here, writing to you, enjoying my second cup of coffee before I take on the week. It's what we've always done, isn't it? This is our way.
I feel you in my head and in my heart. It is much more peaceful, now that this weekend is behind us. This would have been hard on you too, wouldn't it? I hope you stayed here with me and didn't bear witness to that which could have been hard for you to witness. I hope you found your way into each of our homes with that which you wanted us to have.
There is a peace within me that I haven't felt for a while. And it is good. It is hard to break apart the life and home you so carefully constructed and nurtured. It is my hope it will continue on within the homes of your children.
Thanks, Mom. Wendy is a lot like you. She is right an awful lot of the time too. Thanks to you, Wendy. I'm glad you insisted and "knew" what was right.
P.S. Here are a few pictures of my newly revamped old home:
|The cats LOVE this room!! |
It promotes good conversation as well, as Kurt and I had a good, long chat on your magical love seat.