Spent Saturday moving my mother-in-law. It was a physically and emotionally draining day for all of us. This was no simple move. It was a family exercise in grieving. You see, my father-in-law passed away in February and we are still processing what life looks like without him in it. Now it looks like a new house. One that doesn't have any memory of Papa.
It was difficult to pack up the last of the things at the river house and to close that door for the last time. The house may have been emptied of its furnishings but it was terribly crowded with memories (and still is). There was a lot of "I remember when..." happening. There were also a lot of quiet moments no one dared interrupt.
Perhaps the most difficult moment of all was when we came across the contents of Papa's night stand. We just couldn't bring ourselves to go through those personal items. Somehow the place and time were just not right. Grief for another day I suppose. Same furniture. Different place. Wrong time.
It was good for the family to be together on this day. We created the first memories for this new place. We pray it will be the first among many good memories. Welcome home Nana.
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