Paddy ready to chase a squirrel |
When my Border Collie died I figured I
needed to sell the house—after all, nothing tied me here. No husband and no
Paddy dog. I met with Joyce my realtor friend. The next day grief slapped me in
the face. Reality rained down my face. “Leave all my memories behind—once more?”
It isn’t the first time I’ve packed up
to move. One week after the birth of our first child Husband moved us a hundred miles away from family. Not fun—eighteen
years-old with a new baby, no car and no phone. Yes, more than a few years ago.
I survived that move and ten more before
we bought our present home. This is the longest I’ve lived in any of the homes.
It’s also where husband invested his time and our money. He spent hours
replacing ceilings, leveling floors and adding his texture/touch/paint to every
wall in this house. To move means leaving all that behind.
Most people don’t let all their grief
hang out for the world to see, but I’ve come to a place where I depend on my
friends for support through times like this.
Last week when I sent out a “rather tear
drenched” email, I received several suggestions on how to handle the necessary
downsizing and preparation to move.
1.
Jami and Charlene said to take pictures.
“Take your memories with you.”
2.
Deb said, “Give your prized possessions
to people you know and care about.”
3.
Jan said, “This is a good thing. When
you are done you’ll find a new freedom from those things.”
4.
Karla said, “You know Mom walked away
from everything. It bothered me more than it did her when she gave everything
in her house away.”
5.
Teresa said she’d talked with her
husband and they were willing to store furniture husband made until our
grandchildren might need or want them.
I’m thankful for friends and their
wisdom. Now I’ve got to tackle the necessary—I’ll start tomorrow.
This is husband reporting to work--I asked for his help more than once. He thought himself really cute.
Let's face it, he was.
He kept me laughing.
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