I feel like I want to take good care of them, that certain things, no matter how trivial or silly it might seem to anyone else, need to be respected and held onto until my own passing. Things like a pair of small bathroom scissors. Once I leave this earth it will be up to someone else to decide what's meaningful and what's garbage.
With his passing came the bed. THE. BED. We used to call it the marshmallow bed - the king-sized Sleep Number bed that at one time was covered by the most luxurious down comforter, is now mine. Ours. The three of us fit with room to spare. I sleep on my side; Dave's side is his, saved for the kids whenever they join me. Having the bed makes me feel grown up. Something about the head and foot boards, the side tables, and nothing else in the room but a dresser.
It is the room of
One of me. Brandon pointed out that now I'm a widow. I chuckled at the thought because of our four-year separation, but yes technically I am a widow. The mother of two fatherless kids, two kids who now are now card carrying members of the My Dad Died Club, who over the next umpteen years will develop their own ways of explaining why their dad isn't around.
I'm so glad I'm not working right now. This past week of sorting, and moving, and hauling to Mom's where we'll have a garage sale, has been extremely exhausting. There's no way I could have made it through our houseFULL of stuff while having to leave every day to go to work. The kids have needed me here. I've needed them with me. It's really all worked out ok, this strange, scary, unexpected mess.
God what a mess.
At this point I have no plan - I'm just floating, trying my best to deal. I'm looking for a job, but the one for me hasn't made its way into the papers yet. It will be here soon, I can feel it - the Universe will provide just as it always does, and right now it's making sure I'm ok, the kids are ok, our home is ok, before bestowing employment upon us.
I'm so excited for the changes that lay ahead for my blog. Until that happens I'll keep plugging along, writing when the planets align and I feel like I can make sense of life just long enough to write it down.