here it is after 1am here on the west coast and i can't sleep. this happened to me last night too but i was no where near a computer and blogging on a smart phone can be difficult... substitutions for words you meant to say can come out crazy. [smart phones are often times not too smart] and this late at night, it's easier to proofread on a computer.
yesterday and today i went to storage unit #1 -- my dear friends' garage that they let me keep stuff in. primarily i went to see my friends because life has caused us both to get caught up in extreme busyness and our lives run in different circles. we had lunch, we conversed and shared about our lives and all the happenings. i had decided prior to going there that it is my goal to move out a majority of my things to storage unit #2 where my furniture and appliances are being stored.
the bottom line: i have too much stuff.
in these two storage units are held the entirety of my worldly goods frozen in time from 2 years ago September. a dear friend of mine organized 10 or so persons i knew to come over and pack my house up and move it into storage after Brian died. it happened so fast. everyone showed up at 9am and by 9pm, the house was empty and cleaned, ready to hand back over to the landlords [who were more than difficult to deal with]. without the help of those friends, it would have been a horribly daunting task for me to deal with alone.
so now yesterday and today i have gone back to this garage that holds the boxes and boxes of my life before. i have opened a few and it is as if time has stood still. in an effort to get it all done, these helpful friends just 'put it in a box'. papers. coffee pot with grounds and filter still in the brew basket. toddler's snack container with crackers still in the bottom. kids' clothes two sizes small than they wear right now.
time = frozen = tidal wave of sadness and the overwhelming dread of what lies before me: deconstruction -- the task of tearing down what was with no hope of gaining it back or having my own space in which to rebuild. grieving again more than just the loss of him, but the loss of us, our life, what was and what will never be again. sigh...
the stacks of boxes are taken down one at a time, the tape torn off and the contents picked through. part of me thinks = who would ever want any of this? the other part thinks = man, i wish i could have this time back.
814 days to be exact.
given time and it's value, i understand why people walk away and don't look back. looking back is painful. it's sad. it causes tears and heartache and the reopening of wounds once hoped to be forgotten.
and the amazing part of this journey is that Brian could care less. he is free from cares, fears and worldly goods. he is completely free and made new with the Father. he has been set free... for eternity.
so with this deconstruction, i am hoping to find a bit of that freedom for myself. to not be afraid of what lies ahead, but to unpack, remember and carry on. and begin building a life on earth that remembers [& helps my children remember] and has a hope for our future in heaven together.