Sounds dramatic, but as I've changed the look of my home over the past few weeks, I feel I'm living in a model home, or a staged apartment. We prepped the house to be put on the market, which has included paint, elimination of big furniture, removal of all personal pictures, collections, anything that might create some sort of emotion. I also got rid of tons and tons of things. Goodwill knows us well. I'm sure I could have and should have sold our stuff, but I needed to simply part ways. I'm not a hoarder by any means, but a sentimentalist. When tossing stuff got to be too much, I put things in boxes and figure I will sort it out later.
The result: My home is beautiful. It's clean. It's orderly. It's nice. It's not really my home.
As with many of my recent experiences, I've detached myself from the situation I am in emotionally before I do physically. For some reason this fees unnatural. I feel as if I've created an empty space somewhere inside of me.
For example: I lost Dad years before he passed. My marriage was over months, possibly years, before we separated. My house is still my house, but my attachment to it has waned as it no longer feels like my home. I wonder how healthy this is for me. If dad had died one day, instead of over a process of years where I sat and watched, the grief would have been the same. But I would have been forced to deal with the shock of it all and perhaps the process would have been sped up.
Same with my marriage. Had I come home one day to a 'dear John' letter- wow, that would have hurt and the consequences would have been immediate. Not long and drawn out like my current situation, even though it hurts every bit as much(I imagine anyway).
And finally my house. The house I worked so hard to buy with my husband. The house we searched for and fell in love with and visited when the walls were just going up. The house we picked out the carpet and lighting fixtures. This is the home I brought my babies home to. The home I learned to become a mother. The home I taught my children basics to life, and nursed them back to health when they were sick. We really made this house a home, and now it been stripped down to nothing but a potential sale.
Don't get me wrong, it's lovely. It's beautiful. It's everything I wanted 10 years ago. But now it's not mine anymore. I've lost yet another thing.
A house is just a house mind you. I know wherever I live my home will be my home because of my children and our love for each other. Possessions turn out to be of very little value when your child who thinks she's too old to hold hands reaches out and takes your hand while on a walk. Or your son runs over full speed taking a quick break from his video game just to give you a hug and say he loves you. Or when your very independent 4 year old can't last in a room 5 minutes without you before she needs to find out if you are coming back, or if she needs to change her location.
I have so many dear precious people in my life. I simply can not complain for my losses. Yes, I can and do and will always grieve for my losses, but I still have so very much. I'm overwhelmed at the love in my life. At times when I feel low, I only need to look around me. I'm one blessed girl.
Thank you, my sweet loved ones! Your support right now means more to me than you will ever know.
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