Thursday, before the sale started at Mom's on Friday, I got the urge to actually go over there and see what the estate sale people had done to organize the chaos we'd left them. It scared me, truth be told, because....I have no idea why. Maybe because it would be like saying goodbye to her all over again. Maybe because it was so final, as if her death wasn't final enough. It just did. All I knew was that as much as I loathed it, I had to face it.
And so I did.
What I found was an estate sale. It wasn't necessarily MOM'S estate sale, just a sale of stuff. And that was, in and of itself, a comfort to me.
The people had arranged items so that everything showed up, but it all looked "homey" somehow. It wasn't just junk on tables. It showed a lived-in home. Not necessarily Mom's home, mind you, but a home nevertheless. There was too much junk in there I recognized as coming from our homes to make it all Mom's home. Every room was packed from floor to ceiling with stuff. Tables and tables of stuff. Furniture and linens and whatnots and kitchen items and junk, junk, junk. And all of this after we carted home everything imaginable that we wanted.
The sale began yesterday. It continues today and will end with a half-price day tomorrow. Whatever is left will either be donated to The Salvation Army or a garage sale at Sis' church the next weekend.
We plan to meet there next Saturday at 10 a.m. for coffee and blueberry muffins. We may meet there every Saturday until the house is sold. Until that time I plan to use it as a getaway where I can write on the odd days. Of course, there will need to be some staging done for the potential buyers. We aren't letting completely go just yet. Heck, our coffee cups are still in the closet. If that isn't proof of ownership, nothing is.
Yesterday was the first anniversary of the emergency call Mom made to us, telling us she couldn't breathe. I haven't been able to sleep for the past two nights, thinking about it. That was the night we lost the "real" Mom, but there are several anniversaries yet to come and work through. Her birthday in July. Every month on the 29th. Thanksgiving, and another Christmas that isn't Christmas without her.
It gets easier, yes. But there are also times when the grief is overwhelming. God and I are in a healing process right now, with me questioning and Him waiting. I'm sure one of us will come around eventually, but for now, one of us is tired of being hurt and needs to heal and One of us is waiting for that to happen. Strike that - BOTH of us are waiting for that to happen.
But life goes on.