I had a dream

I had a dream last night. Actually it wasn't a sleeping kind of dream, I was wide awake. I will not go into the back story, but I dreamed/wished last night that my mother and her partner could come up here to Louisiana, MO and help me with this house. They are retired and travel around, working at various places, in an RV. It would be extremely helpful if they could come park in my backyard and help dismantle our life here. A mother's cooking is always comforting, and Slick's (yes, that is what he is called), would be very helpful with repairs and other dirty kinds of tasks. But, that will never happen, and that is very sad, especially since the parent I had that would be more than happy to come help, died in March. Yes, I'm 50ish, and at a time like this, I want my mommy and daddy.

I read an article written by a "life coach specializing in grief" about cleaning her husband's closet out. It was FOUR YEARS after his death!! Did you see the phrase "life coach specializing in grief"? I always feel that I am a very bad procrastinator, but geez, four years is an extremely long time. One of the things John didn't like about me was my procrastination. I keep hearing his voice in my head "Why haven't you got this done yet? What have you been doing all day?" Here is what I tell him, "Well, I wouldn't even be having to do this if you hadn't died, so you should just be quiet." Actually I use a little stronger language than that. I sometimes get mad at him for dying.

I haven't been to this house in over two months, and I needed to come back, for one to vote, but also to check on the house. The house is fine, the yard is another matter. Flower beds are full of weeds, and the whole outside just looks like nobody lives here. I also feel like I should start dismantling the life we had here. I started in the bathroom, throwing out old medicine, etc. Moved to the living room but I only ended up making piles of things to sell/donate or keep. I didn't have boxes or anything to put stuff in. It felt ridiculous moving things from one place to another. So, I moved into the kitchen and started throwing away the food that will never be eaten. As soon as I got to the cabinet holding the spices that John used to cook with, I stopped. I don't know why I stopped, and I didn't even think about it. It was like a giant stop sign popped up, a huge roadblock, a dead end. My inner instinct just stopped me. I probably could have sat down and given it some thought, and maybe overcome the roadblock, but that didn't even occur to me. I just stopped. A day or so later, I was able to go through my books and figure out what to keep and what to donate. So, two more piles. When Daddy gave us books, he usually wrote a note on the inside blank page, so I went through those and tore that page out, so those pages are now the third pile.

I thought this process would be hard, but I had no idea. I'm not ready for it, not that it will be any easier in four years, but 9 months seems to early for me.

I have had offers of help from Jes and two sisters, but they have lives that shouldn't be interrupted by my problems.

Looks like I've got some thinking to do. I think I will put it off though and play some more computer games. They are mind numbing and time killing.