Since we came home
with Brecken, I haven’t laid a finger on any of the house chores really.
My wonderful mother visited on two different weekends, leaving just 12 hours before he passed after
the second trip. While she was here, she made herself nearly invisible taking care of everything that needed attention:
taking down the christmas tree, doing the dishes, doing multiple loads of laundry, cleaning the bathrooms, organizing
the kitchen, running errands etc. She did this on both occasions, taking a load off our shoulders so we could enjoy
every moment with our son.
Well, since her visits, nothing has been touched. Torry has done the dishes a few times, but that’s it.
Over the weeks, we have accumulated so much mail, packages and flowers. Everything we needed for Brecken
while he was home was still littered everywhere in our living room. Each day I’d wake with the anticipation to
take care of it all, but then I would never find the energy, or the heart, to do any of it. I’d see his things laying around as
we left them not wanting to disturb them. We don’t have his pictures printed yet, so
his physical items are all I have to be reminded of his presence.
Well, yesterday I started the process of putting
our home back together. Back into one piece. I started with the laundry. Five
loads-3 of which were all of Torry’s clothes alone. I then organized the massive amount
of mail on our kitchen table, as well as all the crap on the coffee table that seconds as my desk. I then turned
to Brecken’s things. It took several trips to bring it all upstairs, but I finally have cleared the living
room of all of it. By my second trip, I had brought up his clothes, blankets and elephant bag filled of various things.
I looked around his disheveled nursery and back down at his foottie elephant button up he came up in. It finally
was sinking in what I was doing. I tried to do it all with a blank mind, not putting any thought into it other than
getting it done. But I lost it. My chest started heaving and I began to cry silently as I didn’t want to concern Torry.
Everything of his was now confined into his room and it was as if it was all closing in on me. I kept
looking around at all of his things, those used but, mostly what was unused with the understanding that
it will all continue to stay that way. I took my few moments to myself until the tears
stopped flowing. It wasn’t long. Just enough to release some of the pain. I then
dried my cheeks and continued about my day.
His Nursery a couple months before he was born. I never got around to finishing it
with the decorations I had planned and was working on.