The weekend was a slow one, a pretty quiet one. I like it that way, where I can go out in a t-shirt and without makeup. My favorite.
On Sunday, Greg and I took a little ride out to our soon-to-be home and the lake nearby. We are so close (less than 2 miles) to the lake, and I imagine that we will be spending quite a bit of our summers there in the future. I suppose we will have to get our fishing licenses (again). Then we came home and I spent over an hour pinning ideas for my office and bedrooms. I am slightly obsessed with putting together our new home. It’s going to be so much fun.
Anyway, while we were out, I got a few photos of the lake. I am looking forward to so many new photo opportunities. They are just screaming at me.
Well, we are getting closer. It seems like it has taken more time than we anticipated, but in reality, it hasn’t. We made it through the general inspection with no major problems, mostly minor cosmetic things that we already knew would be listed. Light fixtures and things like that. The septic inspection went okay too.
So now we are waiting. And hoping. And dreaming. And planning.
And soon, we will be picking out definite paint colors and flooring.
I love you and miss you so much.
They keep telling me that time will take care of the pain, and my heart will be less heavy with every day that passes. It’s only been 10 days. They are wrong. Everyday I miss you more than the day before, and need to talk to you. Everyday I have angry moments because it doesn’t feel fair. And still, everyday I am a little bit grateful that you no longer have to live in misery or pain, suffering to breathe. I feel both selfish and selfless, my heart goes back and forth, because I want you back, but it was best for you to go. You held on too long, in fact, for us. Up until that last moment, I suspect you held on for us.
Please keep sending me light. I am trying, but now is when I need it.
I took a little trip to the Rose Garden at Gage Park yesterday. Greg went to ride his bike, and I had some down time. The sun was out, and even though it wasn’t the best shooting conditions, my camera was along for the ride. It’s so calming how taking photos, harsh shadows or not, can clear my head and make me focus on things that take away all the stress. Taking photos distracts me.
I love the Rose Garden. It’s pretty and quiet, and I can roam, looking for pretties. Yesterday, I was chased by a bumblebee. I was warm in the sunshine, and I saw more battered roses than pristine ones. It must be due to the hail and rain we have had lately. Still, even in their weathered stage, they are pretty, petals or not.
Looking forward to small photo excursions like this.
Happy 8th birthday, pretty girl.
I have been trying to keep better track of things around here, and still my camera is sitting on my printer. Lonely ole camera. I certainly didn’t get much over the past few weeks. With Dad and hopefully moving sometime soon, it has been overwhelmingly crazy.
With the sun out more often, and the need to clear my head, I have a feeling it will be in my hand quite a bit from here on out.
We are dealing. It hasn’t been easy because when something big happens normally, Dad is the one we ask for advice. This time, we are doing it for him. I have been trying to the strong, but yesterday, the day we laid him to rest, was a rough one for me. I cried and didn’t care who saw. I left a part of my heart at that cemetery.
I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to have to miss my dad.
And I do not like the house without him. I will be glad when we move and every single thing won’t remind me of him. I’m so sad when I see the emptiness that he left here for us. Sometimes I feel like I could just overflow with this ache that I have when I want to talk to him about something. And all I can think is “No, not my dad.”
I have heard people talk about losing a parent, but until you experience it, you have no idea. I never did. It’s a whole different feeling that I never knew existed. An achey numbness that at some point will probably wear off and leave me feeling thankful for the relationship we had, thankful for the two months when we knew “it” was coming. But right now, it’s something I can’t shake.
I always thought I was the tough one, but now I’m not so sure. It’s nothing you are ever prepared for.