Reflections #1

It was one year ago today that the packers came for the first day of packing up our house in Cleveland. I didn't know what to expect and was hoping that they would pack the basement first or some other unimportant room. To my surprise, they started with the kitchen. I had to run to the store for something and when I got back, most of my kitchen was in boxes. This was, of course, before I could yell, "HEY, STOP!!! I HAVEN"T GOTTEN THE THINGS I NEED TO!" Oh well, the next time I saw my hand vac was in kitchen box number 23 in Pennsylvania.

One year ago we were to have our final "Family Fun Nite" sponsored by our little town. It was to be a movie at dusk out on the lawn near the lake. Popcorn is free. Music is playing, pre-movie time. Crafts for the kids. And wouldn't you know it, the last time that we could enjoy this community event and it rained. That just stunk!!

This day wasn't as bad as the rest of the days to come and I knew that it was just the beginning of lots more pain. As I have heard coined from my sisters in the last couple of weeks, I just wished at that time that I could have just ripped the band-aid off and gotten it all over with instead of slowly pulling it off and enduring small, very painful pulls on my heart strings.

But today, in the present, I reflect on those memories of what happened on this day, one year ago. And to my surprise, when I open that box of memories, they are still painful. It still hurts and is still raw one year later. It makes me want to put the lid back on and leave it alone for a while, hoping that next year when I revisit these memories, they won't hurt so bad. But I know that that isn't smart. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired of the memories being painful. I hope that as I reflect on the next three days and the memories that they hold from one year ago that it will be a healing process and a chance to let go and move on.