So it’s weird. We are moving. We are 42yrs old and already downsizing our house since Zachary is no longer here. Our current house is too big and seems empty without his noise and constant YouTube on as loud as it could go, his pacing and eating things everywhere he went. I still find fruit snack wrappers shoved in places fifteen months later. His fav, Market Pantry from Target. I swear those little red packages pop out of nowhere as little hellos. Anyway.
When we were looking, we actually had to think, do we really want to take care of this when we are old? Do we really want this much land? Do we really want to have to deal with a pool? We went from thinking we wanted one thing to a complete turn around to something else. Sarah is already fourteen years old. We sadly know how fast time flies and that things can happen in the blink of an eye. We would love her to stay young forever but, we know that won’t happen.
Packing for the move, now that is a different story. We are supposed to close on March 8, 2018 if everything goes as planned which, we all know can change when it comes to buying a house. My current problem with packing is that I find myself looking through everything for touches of Zachary.
I found a photo album from a vacation and it had this beauty in it. It brought on tears of happiness mixed with sadness and longing. It was Billy Bob Thornton who stated, “There’s a melancholy in me that never goes away. I’m 50 percent happy and 50 percent sad at any given moment.” This is so so true. I cry because I was blessed to have him and to have the precious happy memories of him and I cry because I miss him all at once. It’s the learning to live that way that is the challenge.
Learning to walk on a balance beam was easy as a kid. You put your arms out, place one foot in front of the other and walk. This balance beam of grief is a whole different monster. The beam is not straight, it twists and curves, goes up and down, right side up and upside down.
I know I need to just place everything in a box because I know it will be at the new house but, it’s so hard not to look.
Most parents can see these pics and joke and laugh about the fun memories. I look at these pics and I smile and then the tears start. I thought I had been doing better but, this is kicking my ass. I will just get things out of drawers to shove into a box and a little card with his writing will slip out and I’ll touch it and the tears start. I am in a constant limbo of emotions and I am just trying to let myself feel them instead of trying to act tough and shove them down.
So, tomorrow, I am taking my cousins advice. I am not looking intentionally and just get it into boxes carefully labeled. The crying can happen at the new house. It will already be hard enough leaving the last house Zachary touched to a new one he has never lived in. A new one that although he won’t be there physically, I will be able to imagine him walking the circle through the living room and the kitchen. I will be able to imagine him sitting by the waters edge and smiling at the ducks and geese. He would have loved it and we will too.
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