Memories

While I would say that they "light the corners of my mind", some memories hit me harder than others. I've done well with cleaning out my mother's house over the past week or so by treating it like a job; I spend the night at my son's house, have a few cups of coffee, and head up the hill. I work most of the day there -- sometimes running back and forth to town several times to deliver loads to Goodwill or storage, or to deal with tasks associated with the estate -- and then I come back to my son's house in the evening. Yesterday was an exception. I spent the day with my youngest granddaughter, having our first ever "just the two of us" lunch out. The day was great fun, but I was surprised by how worn out I was by evening. It was at least as exhausting as cleaning out the house.

Today, as I removed the last of the stuff from my mother's bedroom, I came across something that made me cry: cards from relatives sent in honor of my birth and of my first birthday. I don't know why that particular find hit me so hard. Maybe it was just the fact that my mom had saved the cards all those years. Suddenly, I just needed to get out of there. I found a place in town that could touch up my hair. (Just leaving wouldn't have been a good use of time, but I really did need my roots done.) A little pampering and time fixed me right up. I was ready to get back to it.

All day I was back and forth; tomorrow will be more of the same (minus the stylist). I'm on a going-home countdown. Somehow, that makes it all a bit easier.