We moved last weekend. We had an amazing amount of help and support from friends and ward members. I was so grateful for the help because I was not up to doing my share of the work after we got home from California. We have been so blessed with phone calls, visits, flowers, cards, delicious meals, and hours spent by our friends helping us move, pack, babysit, and clean. Thanks to all of you for your love and support.
Here are some pictures from our move. (I wish so badly that I had taken a picture of the 12 guys helping us pack our truck and unload it.)
The chaos of moving has provided me with enough distraction to keep me from considering how crappy it is that my mom isn't around anymore. There has been so much to do with unpacking boxes and dejunking and such that I've been successful at keeping my mind off her. I was actually starting to feel bad today that I hadn't cried in a couple of days. I am really enjoying our new home. We'll probably only be able to live here for a year as we plan to move next year for Bobby's 4th year rotations, and I'm sure it will be really hard to leave! My favorite features of the new house are the ice-maker in the freezer and the walk-in closet. I've always been bad at remembering to fill the ice trays. We have been up to our necks in boxes the last few days, but the house is finally starting to look livable as of today and thanks in large part to Bobby. I spent some time in our closet today hanging up clothes and I realized that our new closet reminds me a lot of the one my Mom had in the house I grew up in. When I was little, I'd sometimes hang out in there when she didn't know and look at her high school photo album or her jewelry or whatever. One time I read my grandma's journal (remember the one I told you about? My mom's mom who died when she was 54). In it she wrote about how much she loved it when my mom would come and bring me to visit. When we played hide-and-go-seek, one of my favorite hiding spots was in her closet. I'd climb behind her dresses and stand as straight and as flat against the wall as I could and I would stick my feet in her shoes and noone would ever find me! I unpacked some of the last few boxes with these memories as my companion this afternoon and now that we can see the floor and most of the boxes are broken down and out of the way, and the kitchen table is cleared off of all the nicnacs that were waiting for their new home, I feel the absence of clutter not only in my house but in my mind and that I'm not as distracted as I have been the last few days. I feel very aware of how much it stinks that I can't call her and tell her that Franny peed on the potty for the first time yesterday, and that this house has an ice-maker in the freezer, and about how ridiculous it is that my mom died when I was 29 just like hers did! I'm sure it will be only get harder for the next little bit as the list of things I want to call her about continues to grow. I had a good cry in the closet and I sat in the back behind my clothes with my back pressed against the wall like I did when I was a kid. The truth is I'm glad that I can feel the weight of this loss again. I think moments like that are important and healthy and I want to get started with the grieving process so I can keep going and be the best daughter, mother, wife, and sister that I can be. So here's to many more good cries in the walk-in-closet.