Scattered thoughts are the norm for me lately. So much I want to say and do, and unable to bring it all around to have it make sense. I hate feeling this way. I can always tell when I am in a funk. My house reflects it as well. I wander from thing to thing to do, laundry, sorted halfway. Dishes done but still needing to be put away. Picking up something in here and returning it shifts my eye to the trash can that no one else notices is begging to be emptied. Easily irritated. Many mornings I attempt to do my ritual, cup of coffee and some blog reading, and find myself literally falling asleep in the seat. Snapping awake from some unexpected sound or twitch. Walking into mom’s house and being surrounded by her things, running through as quick as possible. I still have to take down her tree and ornaments. Another on the list of to-do, along with going through her stuff in the garage. I love how everyone points out it needs to be done, but no one has the time to come help do it. Although I should not be surprised, it has been this way forever. Only this time I just don’t have the energy or desire to do it alone. Photo albums stacked in my floor, waiting for me to go through them and decide what pictures to include in the memorial DVD. Days pass and seemingly it is another month. Some days I feel like she is not really gone. Like she has just taken a trip somewhere and she will pop up and things will be normal. Other days the sense of being alone just takes my breath. Trying to explain this to anyone else is an effort in futility. I texted our pastor last night. Despite not having attended in months. I need to go, I need to be fed. But that mean being in a place I am sure she still lingers. Will I be able to be fed and not look around thinking , did she sit here once? Isn’t that one of her favorite songs? Even the auction, something she never attended, can send memories rolling through. Because she would have had a ball. Especially when they bring up the boxes of stuffed animals. She loved her babies.Especially if they were meant to do something. If they didn’t work she would take them apart to fix them. Those are the days I wish she was here to fix me.
PYHO: Missing her still..
April 25, 2012 by