I woke a bit late this morning, having spent the night struggling with my dreams. Twice I woke with a start, knowing that a dream woke me but not remembering the content that startled me awake. So, I rose about 0630, took my morning medications, made some coffee, and retired to my workroom to write in my journal, wake, and pray.
I took care of my Girl and we did a short walk, enjoying the (clearer) air. It was a pleasant morning with most of the smoke off to the east, driven there by the westerly winds.
We returned to the house and I opened the garage door to let in the cool air and light. I am determined to get through all these damned boxes. I want to be able to park my 4Runner in the garage.
There were a few boxes marked that they contained holiday decorations. I pulled one of them over to the staging table and opened it. In it I found more family traditions. I started another box for Daughter because I know she doesn’t want these things to get away. I also know that sometime Older Son and Young Son will establish their own households and traditions and might want some of these things. I selected a few things for myself.
I now have one box of Christmas decorations/things that I want to keep. I will purchase a small tree to celebrate the season about Thanksgiving and spend an hour or two decorating it. It will be a part of my tribute to Wife and her love of that holiday season.
The remaining things I sorted and either packed for Daughter or elected to donate to Goodwill. I then sorted through the fall and other holiday decorations. They were not as challenging because Wife loved Christmas the most. The other holidays were special too, but just not in the same way.
The holiday boxes dealt with and two loads hauled to Goodwill today, I pulled open a box labeled MB Miscellaneous Things, Store. I was unprepared for what I found.
In it were Wife’s high school diploma, a number of her awards and certificates from that time, and her college diploma. I felt the grief rise in me and spent some time weeping and talking to my Girl. She feels the intensity, I know, I can tell by watching her.
How does one deal with such things of the deceased? I have no idea. I found another box from my collection that is better suited to storing these things and carefully stowed them in my bedroom closet. I will want to do something with these things this winter when it’s too cold to do much outside or in the garage. I am also not ready to make decisions about what to do with her things.
The smoke worsened as the day wore on. So, I came inside and began processing another box of old records. In it I found old records of the houses we bought and sold over the years. I found many, many old records of things like utilities. I filled the shredder’s bin twice and emptied it.
These things represent a portion of our history as a family. They should have been discarded years ago, but were not. As I worked through the old files, I was again filled with sadness that so much is past. That is the nature of life, I suppose.
I should be nowhere near the sunset of my life. But one never knows. That’s the uncertainty of living and God gave pretty good instruction about it. So, I try to not dwell on that and to just live right now.
That is my task — to live only in the moment; not the past nor the future. It’s really hard to do, sometimes. I miss Wife so much and dealing with these things reminds me of what is gone. It reminds me that I cannot know what is next — that only God knows what’s next for me. I sure wish I had a peek at what’s coming, though. I’d really like good, simple direction on what I’m supposed to do and where I’m headed.
The truth is, of course, that such direction is not forthcoming and is the antithesis of faith. Yet, I struggle with that.
During my struggle, though, I continue processing the things here that need to be dealt with. I think that’s my task for now. When it’s done, perhaps God will show me a bit of what I’m supposed to be doing next, even if that’s just sitting put. I would like to know.
This weekend has been a lot harder than I expected. The struggle makes me ever more determined to finish what I’ve started, no matter how challenging. I can see that I’m getting closer to being able to park my 4Runner in the garage. I’m also lightening my load substantially with each load that goes out of the house.
These are good things, even if they are hard. Perhaps this is part of my processing of my grief. I’m OK with that.
5 thoughts on “That Was Hard”
While I never believe that living life based on the ‘rear view mirror’ way of living is helpful, we don’t want to forget everything about the past. And the future, oh, my dear…I believe that envisioning how we want to be or how we want to feel in the future can be beneficial, too. It’s about creating a vision, even if the vision is different from what we thought it would be 10 years ago when we thought of the future.
You’ve done good work. You can only do as much as you can do.
Glenna, thanks for the hugs. Although they are virtual, they are still important. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, grrl….
Deb, thanks for the encouragement. There’s an essay or five there. Some of the ideas are partly formed and some are still embryonic. I downloaded a copy of Christine Kane’s Vision Board ebook and am reading it. I’m not sure that is what I need, but the reading thereof is useful and might even be insightful. Her notion of intention seems well grounded in other things I read (think Cybernetics for one).
In the end, I think I need to finish this phase, get things cleaned up, lighten my material load, and finish paying my bills. I believe that when that time arrives, I’ll be in a better place to gain some additional perspective… or in a place where I can look out and have a chance of seeing the horizon. Then I hope to be able to set a course.
I have a great “end game” questionnaire that I can send you if you like. I use it with the Sex Kitten group, but it’s great for both men and women. Also, my current eBook is pretty helpful when it comes to focus….
By all means. I’d love to see it. 🙂
Comments are closed.