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6:09 P.M. - Saturday, Aug. 18, 2007
Little memories everywhere
Some of the most difficult days have been the last few, back to cleaning, organizing, and separating everything we own. My thoughts have been all over the place; some times, I am full of anger other times I cry. I wonder what happened, whose to blame, how did we get to theis point? I cannot place all blame on husband, nor could I handle blaming myself, I have settled on a series of events over a long period of time that brought us to this point in time.

I have cleaned windows, all woodwork; today I spent from morning to now moving everything in the kitchen cleaning. In the bedroom cleaning windows and moving furniture finding little memories everywhere. I found a little oven mitt behind a counter, a toy my grandson left behind hiding under the refrigerator. I have found a box of mementos from my daughter's army days, pictures I did not recall taking.

Wood trim I cleaned were memories of coming home from work with husband so pleased he added a special touch to the place. A little crystal my brother gave me resides among the stones than were set in front of the fireplace lost to me now as mortar surrounds it, encircled by a sea of stonework.

When cleaning the new room that isn't finished I felt odd sweeping the floor of what was to be our master bedroom, the full bath, walk in closets, the little hall way, and husbands office room. I found myself gazing out the window recalling a time we stood together talking about the awesome view we would have from our back door leading from the kitchen attached to a wrap around porch taking us to the bedroom then on around to the back door. Little memories lay in wait for strangers to pick apart while our belongs are nickeled and dimed away during the auction.

Husband and I sat down and squabbled over the tapes, who would take what, later I calmed down and while going through DVD's and CD's if he liked it I placed it in his pile of things. It's only stuff, nothing worth making an already heartbreaking situation any worst.

The place looks good if you over look the boxes marked him and I, it's clean and there is a good feeling amongst the pain.

This morning I sat at the table thinking I cannot do this another day, but soon those thoughts were drowned in a sea of cleaning products and fresh air from the now opened windows. The heat wave has passed.

The tears I tell myself are ok, a cleansing of the soul as the process of letting go continues. Some times my mind wanders to yesterday, drifting again to now, and many times onward to my new journey in the not so far distance. An ever-flowing conflict of emotions that has no beginning and no end, weaving through the daylight and often finding way to my dreams, I am exhausted.

There are days I feel alone, I cry, other times I find comfort in this aloneness. Trying to find a voice that doesn't sound like enraged words of a madwoman is difficult, conversations ride high tide through my mind constantly.

Change is hard, letting go is hard, loss is hard, and life is hard. Those little memories are everywhere.

Sandyz

 

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