I hate thinking of titles…

I survived the cleaning frenzy.  There were people here to see the house.  I cleaned for almost 48 hours.  I learned the importance of daily maintanence.  Luckily, they loved the house. 

I was going to celebrate with a nap and cereal for supper.  The kids decided that I shouldn’t sleep, and I realized we had run out of disposable bowls.  So for supper we had chicken, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy and corn on paper plates with plastic silverware.  It was lovely.  Now, for the rest of the night I am going to do NOTHING!!

Yesterday the kids had their pictures taken by our neighbor.  He did a fantastic job of getting all 5 of them to sit nice and smile, even all at the same time.  That’s talent!  As soon as I get them I’ll show you all.  I can’t wait!

I spent some time outside with the kids and realized how much I am going to miss this place, and the people here.  It is so hard to let go, so hard to stay focused on the future when the past keeps calling me back.  I feel so torn, stuck between what I know and the unknown.  I really don’t like this feeling.  It’s strange, we lived in Red Wing for 9 years, and I didn’t want to move, okay, I REALLY didn’t want to move, but I was still able to get excited about moving and welcomed the new adventure (after kicking and screaming) Now, it’s different.  I feel almost tied here, I feel a pull.  I know it’s because this is where Jeff last was, but it’s just odd.  It’s a feeling I really can’t explain.  We’ve been here almost longer without him then with him.  I wonder if in 5 years I’ll reflect back on this time and this place and feel the same way, or if I will think of this time, this place and remember it as a miserable peroid of my life.  I have cried more tears here, then in any other place.  I have lost more here then anywhere else, and I am leaving soo much behind.  I wonder…

 I also wanted to say thank you to everyone who comments.  I love reading your thoughts and ideas.  I love knowing that you are thinking of me.  I often go back and re-read your comments.  I can’t re-read what I write because it depresses me way to much, but I love re-reading the comments.  You are all very important to me.  Thank you bunches!

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10 responses to “I hate thinking of titles…

  1. wow, dinner! looking forward to cute pics!

  2. I have realized that I check here at least twice a day to see what you have wrote. I pray for you and your kids(which is something I really haven’t done in years)I also check on the cf husband too. I thank you for sharing, it can’t be easy. I’m never sure what to say but as a mom with many also I kind feel compelled to sometimes. Take care and that meal sounds great!

  3. I’ve been reading (twice a day like gmomof7!) for the past two months and have never commented. I just wanted to let you know that I think of you often and even though you’re a complete stranger to me in a faraway land (I’m from Ohio) I find myself deeply impacted by your blogs and I sincerely care about you – total stranger or not. You’re an amazing woman and mom.

  4. I’m not a total stranger and I too check your blog at least twice a day. Sorry I comment so rarely. I’m not gifted with words like you are. But I do think of you and your family many times a day. I’m sure that without this blog the prayers would have been a little less frequent. I do see real growth and progress. There are always steps back along with the forward ones. But your wit and sparkle shine through more and more all the time. I love you and miss you. The offer still stands of the use of our basement when you ever come to RW. (We actually even got one whole bedroom completely done and have good progress on the second one.)

    Love, Jean

  5. I too read every post but don’t really comment and just wanted to let you know that you are always in my thoughts. I think you are incredibly brave to post the detail of what you are going through. I wish you all the best in your move.

  6. I think the important things, the memories, thoughts and feelings, you get to take with you. But I applaud the incredible strength it takes to leave, and soldier on alone.

    I may not always be commenting, but I am always thinking of you, and wishing you strength.

  7. I have a feeling some people wish I commented a little less frequently, given my last comment on my gross sweat pants. Having said that, it was a testament to how much I cared about how much Jeff’s dirty laundry means to you and how much I want to protect your feelings and try to help you through this from so far away that I put myself way, way out on a limb there. For someone who used to be a complete stranger. I guess it is hard to call you a stranger any longer, as I, too, check your blog at least once, if not two or three times a day, like your other commenters. And I love reading the comments of the other “strangers” – the internet is an amazing thing. But I also love reading the comments of your family and friends – they love you so much. I have this hope that when you get back “home”, you will be just be enveloped by their care.

  8. “It is so hard to let go, so hard to stay focused on the future when the past keeps calling me back.”

    That line is beautiful. I think of you often as I struggle to carry the burden of my own grief. God bless.

  9. And by the way, Laura, when I usually talk about experiences with grief over losing my baby, I am not talking about the miscarriage (although that was devastating – we had tried for years and were afraid we were never going to be able to have children). But I am usually talking about the stillbirth of my daughter, four years ago, who was born at 26 weeks with her twin, who survived. I don’t know why I felt it was important to tell you that, but I just did. We can’t have more children, which I also grieve, every single day. I know there are days you would give me one or two of yours (!), but I do think of you as lucky in many ways.

  10. still reading you, thinking of you, loving the good things that happen for you every day. fabulous that the photos are so gorgeous, can’t wait for a wee look,
    love X

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