We’ve sold the first
of my mom’s properties – her condo in Bellevue.
This is a good thing. This is
SUCH a relief and will lift an enormous burden off all of our shoulders. But it’s also bittersweet. It’s all so bittersweet. This is how everything is right now. It was the place where I last saw and spent
time with dad. It was the place where
lots of events happened over the last 14 years. (College graduation
celebrations, our post-Wedding day brunch – also bittersweet thanks to our
Wedding night spent in the ER, it’s where we brought babies to visit Grandma
and D-dad, it’s where we threw an amazing surprise birthday party for mom’s 70th,
it’s where we went after dad died).
Yesterday, I was
driving home from dropping Kayliana off at preschool. I was kind of just zoning out when, all of a
sudden, I became uber aware of my surroundings.
I think it was the combination of sun and the color of the autumn leaves
around me. It also happened to be the
same road that I had to drive home on after getting the call from Mike. I was
immediately transported back to that moment, that day.
This year, the
changes of fall make me feel just a little ill.
It’s beautiful, but it puts a pit of dread in my stomach. It just means
we’re in the season and nearing the inevitable first anniversary of dad’s
death. Every moment causes me, in some
way, to think about that. Well, a year ago when we were putting up our
harvest-Halloween decorations, I had no idea what would happen in just a matter
of weeks. I was also all sorts of
confused and stressed, fall 2013, with my new (dad-initiated) plan to go back
to school and get my Masters. (A plan
that has been completely shelved, put on the back-burning, has a pin in it –
you name it. I feel like, for the last
10 months, I’ve hardly been able to get through a day without falling
apart. I can barely look a week ahead right now
without feeling overwhelmed. Figuring
out my future career path is the last thing on my mind.)
People have already started
talking a bit about the holidays. I saw
Christmas trees in a store already. Normally,
this would thrill me to no end (and, of course, it partly does). But Thanksgiving will be forever
tainted. I’ll never be able to
experience it for just Thanksgiving. It will always bring back memories of last Thanksgiving
– reeling and really, still being in shock, from the two days before.
I think I’ve even
already blogged about this, and it makes me sad that this has become the tone
of my blog, but whatchya-gonna-do, right?
November 26th looms like a dark shadow in front of me. It’s the day before Thanksgiving this
year. I (selfishly) pre-dread seeing all
the happy Thanksgiving posts on Facebook or having to listen to people complain
about the stress of the holiday, the family madness, the cooking, the cleaning,
the prep-work (even though I will grumble about some of that too). I assume
that we’ll probably have Thanksgiving here.
I do think it’s good that we won’t be having it in the same place as
last year, but I know it won’t necessarily be any easier.
This is the thing
with grief – and a dear friend from Engaged Encounter (who lost her son) – told
me: it’s the build-up to the days – the
holidays, the anniversaries and birthdays – that’s usually the hardest. That, and the random days (like today and
yesterday) when, for whatever reason, it’s just extra painful. The hurt is just a little more constantly
present. So, maybe that’s what I’m in
now. The random hard days. The build-up to the big days. No matter how you slice it, it sucks; it’s
all hard. Different levels of hard, but
all sucky.
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