A blur of days

We have been working hard to get the parent's house ready for listing with a local real estate agent. The time has flown by, with most days filled with packing up and moving boxes to storage. Yesterday was the culmination of getting it ready.  There was a showing at 3 PM so we had a blitz to finish "staging" the house.  Finally, it is done.  We can get back to some semblance of normality around here because all the effort has been going to getting the other house ready for sale.

Today is lovely.  The north wind came in overnight, so the temperatures are cool.  We've had breakfast on the porch.  I have read a few blogs and am now taking time to do a post here.  My wife is at home and not planning on going to her parent's house. Progress.

I told my story at my home group for my Al-Anon anniversary.  It felt good to share some about my past and where I am now.  The past year was one that has been so difficult due to the deaths of the parents and my cousin,  their sickness and terrible decline.

To be honest, there were times when I didn't even want to get out of bed in the morning.  I had no energy and realize that grief takes a heavy toll on me.  My wife struggled with her own sadness. Both of us were processing the losses in our own way.  She focused all her energy on packing up the house.  She wouldn't stop no matter how exhausted she was.  The handy man and I would carry the many boxes to storage. But she wanted to go through everything, sorting out those things that could be given away and those that would be saved.

I felt that separateness and loneliness returning, just as it had when her focus was on alcohol.  There was no room for me at the moment.  The difference now was that I let her be.  When she came home tired and exhausted, I would hold her close.  I would draw water in the whirlpool bath for her, pour in the bath salts, and sponge her tired body.  I cooked dinner, even if it was late in the evening.  I struggled with not asking her to stop for a few days, take a break, and relax.  I did tell her that I was concerned that she was overdoing it.

And now we are done with the house. There are a few things left to box up in the garage.  And somehow in the packing up of scrapbooks, photo albums, dishes, collectibles, linens, and all the other accumulation of 90 years of life, we have moved through grief to acceptance and joy.  We have turned the corner.

Today is beautiful so we are going to enjoy it by reading the paper, writing, picking vegetables, and going to the boat.  Emerging from sadness feels so good, like walking out of a dark cave into the light.