We’re moving…again. I know the process for this, I’ve done it 10 times already. This time is different. This time I’m moving from Michigan to South Carolina. I’ve changed states before but not alone, or mostly alone. I’ve got my youngest son who is 14 and more interested in hanging out with his friends than helping me, although he does help when I get frustrated (aka make him). He’s a good kid and he really is a good helper most of the time, just not in this.
I’ve got my older son and daughter-in-law on the other end of the move so I’m not really alone, I’m just feeling more than a bit overwhelmed. I need to have weekly garage sales but the weeks are slipping away and I can’t get organized to do it. I need to get the house on the market but I’m just not sure it’s ready. Still too much to do to get it ready. And the weeks are slipping away. Most of the packing is done but not all of it. I need to find a new house in SC but it’s kind of difficult to do from this far away. And the weeks are slipping away.
All of this turmoil makes me very unsettled, very stressed. I miss my husband. I miss having that shoulder to lean on. I miss his Take Charge personality (I’m a bit of an introvert). I miss his wisdom. I miss his calming presence. I miss everything about him. This adventure only intensifies that grief. And our 21st wedding anniversary would have been next week. Grief multiplied. I miss my life before his death. I miss being his wife.
Everything makes me cry these days. Every soppy commercial, every scene of separation no matter what kind in every movie or tv show that I watch. Good thing I don’t have time for watching much right now.
I’m excited about the move. I’m looking forward to it being over. It’s just the process of getting there that has my nerves standing on end. And the weeks are slipping away. They’re slipping away too fast and not fast enough. I need my husband to lean on right now. I need him here with me. I resent again that he’s not. I’m angry at the stupid cancer that stole him from me. I need him. But it’s just me.
Personal pity party time is over now… Time to paint.