Our travels went smoothly, Bob’s memorial services went off without a hitch, and now we start the process of getting on with life.
Andy and I worry, of course, about his mom’s transition to her new normal. We shouldn’t, as my mother-in-law is about a million kinds of awesome, but she’s our mom (in-law) and so we’ll worry. And she’ll probably read this paragraph (either on her iPhone, or iPad, or MacBook Air, or iMac, seriously, she’s awesome) and tell us she’s FINE, so knock it off. And she WILL be fine.
Andy and I were talking last night about how it still doesn’t seem real. Everything was such a whirlwind, that’s it’s hard for our brains to realize that it was A Thing That Actually Happened. I know Andy will be fine, too, but I hate that Andy has to have the memory of giving his father CPR.
And I hate that it happened at my house. I wish I weren’t like that, but I’ve never handled death well. When I was twelve, my grandmother died in a similar way while we were visiting, and I still have nightmares about her house and farm. When we were going through our reproductive stuff, and especially after we lost Sam & Emilie, I very very desperately wanted to sell our house. Of course, “being crazy” isn’t a good reason to move, so we’ve stayed. But I’ve had to repaint the kitchen, repaint our bedroom (twice, with a couple gallons waiting on me to paint for the third), repaint our office, all in an effort to shake the bad energy I’ve always felt this house has. I had *just* gotten to a point where, while I’m not in love with my house, I was content staying here while the kids were at least in grade school. And now I’m back to wanting to slap a For Sale sign in the yard.
But even though I think “father-in-law basically died in my guest room” is reason to sell, it technically falls under the “being crazy” category, so I have to stay put. Andy might not understand my current trouble with being home by myself, or my random freak-outs over that room being a kid’s room some day, but he made the suggestion himself to redo the guest room. The gallon of paint has already been purchased (thank you, Sherwin Williams, for timing your big sales with my crazy). I’ve had a whole bunch of house projects on my to-do list recently, so a guest room redo fits in nicely on the list.
And I’ve considered finally doing a sage cleansing of the house, something I’ve toyed with ever since we lost Sam & Emilie. Although I cringed with embarrassment just typing that last sentence. I’ve had trouble, though, finding good information on doing one that isn’t written by someone named Dragonsong (no, really). But if hippie witchy shit would help me get rid of the bad vibe, I’m willing to try. I’m still firmly ensconced in my agnostic ways, I promise I won’t start yammering about crystals or weaving dreamcatchers or anything. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that! No judging! All beliefs are valid, kumbaya, etc.)
Wow, so what was supposed to be a “we’ve said our good-byes, it was hard, we’re trying to get back to normal, thanks so much for all the kind words and thoughts and prayers” post got tooooooottttttallllly derailed there, didn’t it. Chalk it up to the scatterbrained mind I’ve had this week. Andy and I really do thank all of you for the kind words and thoughts and prayers. The internet is an amazing thing; we were able to feel the support of so many even without their physical presence. It’s really helped us get through a tough couple of weeks, and you all are very much appreciated.