Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Memories

There's way too much going on. I've had to put my thesis on hold because the house is going on the market. In preparation for this, things are being packed, rooms are being painted and there's just too much commotion for me to concentrate.

Update - I began composing this post on March 18th and never finished it because ... there's just too much going on. Today is March 29th.

My cousin found a buyer for the house. And I'm feeling kind of divided about the whole thing. I'm glad it's almost over because the living situation has become just unbearable. I get home, I go in my house, I lock the door, and I stay there. Part of it is because I know I only have a finite number of days left here, and I'm selfish ... I want them all. And part of it is I just don't want to interact. I really don't. There's nothing left to say.

I walk around this house and I see my life everywhere. There I am in the kitchen with Melinda when she was a baby and sick in the middle of the night. Now I'm in the living room cleaning up the glass from the thimble dome that Donna broke. Here I am watching Michael and John play Nintendo in the living room. And then I'm back in the kitchen matching my Dad shot for shot.

I remember falling asleep in my room with the Christmas window candles and their orange bulbs. That was the only color my Mom ever used in the window ones. I'm about ... I dunno ... 8 maybe, 9? And I'm trying to stay awake so I can hear Santa on the roof. I know it seems silly, but to this day I still do that. I remember the one year I peeked in the bags. My Mom always kept them in the closet next to her room. Christmas morning wasn't the same, and I never did that again.

I remember my dad making me eggnog when I was little, and then me making him eggnog shakes when, because of his cancer, he could no longer eat solid food. I remember Christmas with the Veritys ... especially Alan and his ventriloquist dummy ... for the life of me I can't remember the name he gave it. And the look on my Mother's face when she realized what was on the Woodstock album she got me for Christmas.

I could go on and on, and I'll probably add more as the day to leave this wonderful place draws near. And I know I'll write about the other side of this whole experience too ... I'm just not ready.

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