I recently did the big move two Saturdays ago. It was a horrendous journey from the getgo. Barely two weeks had passed after my husband’s death when I was informed there was a one bedroom coming available in July. I probably wasn’t in my rightest mind, but I did know I didn’t want to pay exuberant rent living alone in the big place, so I agreed to take the early departure.
But before any packing could be done, I had to go through a lifetime of everything we owned. I had to downsize to at least half of everything – furniture, clothes, shoes, and other assorted big things taking up space. I barely had time to mourn over the seperation of the so many things that have been a part of my life, our life, for decades. But there was no choice. And there was barely a helping hand to help me sort out our life and condense it into boxes and smaller spaces. Trauma teaches us just how many are really in our life, and how many actually give a shit. I found out – not many.
I was referred to the clown movers by ‘a friend’ in my building. My good friend Vinnie had brought me over a large moving trolley a month before the move, telling me to use it to transport stuff downstairs as soon as I got the keys early. I did many loads and unloads, alone, and by the time moving day came, it should have been a four hour deal. Only, the mover guys came with no moving tools, didn’t bother taking a shower before coming to our air-conditioned building that was working overtime with some of the worst humidity from a temporary heatwave that hit on moving day, making the breathing more unbearable – even through a mask. These clowns needed me to guide and babysit them, so there was no way I could be down in the new place doing anything constructive. You may be wondering, so no, NOBODY came to help me on moving day.
After over ten hours of moving, scraping, dragging my furniture up and down hallways, I fired them at almost 9pm. My bones all felt broken, and I fell into a very dark place. It wouldn’t be until the Monday, two days later that the cavalry – my good friends Vinnie, Tonie and Alison showed up to help turn my place into a home. There were a few more visits over the last two weeks from my lovely friends, as everyone is busy and has their own life issues to deal with, but I learned a lot. And I couldn’t help thinking about a famous quote from Maya Angelou – “When someone shows you who they are, believe them.”
Through my journey of grief, I haven’t been working on a book, heck, I haven’t been writing regularly, but I have been writing. I found myself writing snippets of life and what I learned and felt through the days of my husband’s illness, through his dying days, and the emotional fallout afterwards that I continue to live daily. Late at night is when my inspirational moments of recall become crystal clear, and I write these thoughts down in one Word doc that will surely become elaborated on and condensed into a book – eventually – when I regain my balance and begin to stomach rereading the enormity of my life this past year. But in the interim, I will share snippets of my thoughts, here on my blog:
Closure Erasure
I scream at the top of my lungs when the pain gets too much. I have to release it or I may just spontaneously combust. Since the day you went away I have been running on auto pilot. From the shock of your death to making funeral arrangements, to burying you, to trying to swallow the five lonely weeks you lived from your death edict diagnosis.
The paper work, the banks, investments, will, and income tax to be done too, kept me in a tailspin between tears. Then, the last thing in the world on my mind was moving, yet, I knew I had to. We had planned to move in the early fall before we even knew how very sick you were. What I really wanted to do when you died was lay in bed with covers over my head, for however long I wanted to – days? Weeks? Who knows how long I’d allow myself. But it was as if you intervened when I surprisingly found out in gest there was a smaller unit in the same building. I truly believe you made that happen. But in the midst of the madness of preparing for this 180 degree move for me, it felt more like a total 360.
Life was a merry-go-round of fun, spontaneity, and love. We traveled, we laughed, and we loved, and we had a great life. Once again, I’m suddenly on my own and moving back to a one bedroom apartment, like I did when I left home at eighteen. Only then, it was exciting and freeing. This time it’s painful and lonely.
I’ve given all your belongings to your family, as I was forced to take on the ‘cleaning out’ process as half our stuff would not fit the new place. In the span of my life taking a 180, losing you, and clearing out our life, every picture, sock, piece of furniture, had me and you all over it. A monumental task that I still to this day, do not know how I had the strength to keep moving through while my heart is shattered. But I did. And often I felt I wasn’t even in my own body. Like some invisible force was keeping me going – like a friend calling to offer a hand just at the right moment -like my bestie Zan who still calls me twice a day from the other side of the world, because other than you, my love, there is nobody left living on this planet earth who loves me to nth degree and unconditionally, but Zan.
Erasure and closure everywhere I look. Bare walls embedded with leftover nails sticking out the walls from photos and mirrors now sold or packed away are what reflect back to me now. I think about how many homes we’ve built and sold and downsized each time, yet, we kept so much, like the huge two shopping bags full of every card for every occasion we’d ever given each other in our almost twenty-five years together. When I was getting rid of a lot of things, someone remarked to me that I should toss those bags too. I told her what they were and she remarked they’re no good to me now. Did you hear that? They are ever more important to me now. And one day, when my heart is ready to smile about our good times, I’d like to look back at those cards and smile in my heart again.
©DGKaye2021
“You’re allowed to change your mind about the people and things you want in your life. You’re allowed to adjust your values and preferences as you get older and wiser. You’re allowed to evolve and be a different person today than you were yesterday. This is your life.” ~ Unknown wordables.
DGKayewriter.com 
Debby, I have tried so hard to write to you, to write something, to say SOMETHING! I am at such a loss for words. So unlike me. I just know that nothing I can say will help. I love you, sis. 💖 I know the need for silence, for healing. I know the emptiness of platitudes. My blessings and prayers are with you. Write out your feelings and emotions. Write him a letter. He will hear and cherish every word. Yours was the greatest love story I have ever been been humbled and honored to hear! It was REAL!
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OMG Deb, you made me cry again – but that’s not hard to do these days. I thank you from my heart. You know well this painful journey. No, there aren’t any words that can lighten the load, I know this well. I feel the same ‘stuck’ when I learn of a friend’s loss. What can we possibly say to make it better? We can’t. We can only let someone know our hearts feel for them, and be there when we’re needed. The need for silence is a common element in this journey. Thank you for visiting and leaving your wisdom and love. I love you my sister. ❤
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My heart breaks for you. This was way too much for you to do all at once. I wish I was close so I could have helped you. I am so glad you kept those cards! You will want to look at them again down the road. Hang in there, you are strong but you still need to look after yourself. Sending hugs and love.
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Thank you so much Darlene. This was absolutely wayyyyyyyyyyyy too much for me. I still shake my head in astoundment. And I know so many of my wonderful friends here would have lent a hand if you all weren’t so far away. But I’m thrilled for the friendship. ❤
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Hi Debby, I am so sorry to read this. I have no words to make it better for you, but I think of you often and send you thoughts and prayers.
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Thanks Robbie. There are no words really. I’m merely updating and sharing my current world. I appreciate your visit. ❤
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I’m glad that you wrote this honest and heartfelt post, Debby. I feel awful that you had such little support when you were moving. I’m not giving your “friends” a pass, but I think sometimes people don’t know what to do or say when others are grieving. It seems easy to me—be a friend, just like we always do. I have a great group of guy friends who come to the rescue when one of us needs help. That means helping with moves or elaborate home projects. I’ve been staining my deck this week, and it makes me think of them because I never would have attempted building my deck on my own.
I know that you already know this, but I’ll say it anyway to reinforce the thought. Writing is one of the best therapies there is. When you don’t have the Sans of the world to talk to and nobody seems to be home when you make phone calls just to talk to someone, write down how you’re feeling. It’s okay to feel sorry for yourself—you’ve been through huge life changes.
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Thank you so much for your wisdoms Pete. If it weren’t for writing who knows if I would have made it past teenagedom.
You are blessed to have a wonderful group of friends. I discovered how many here are ‘real’ friends. I get my best support from my far away friends – like you, and many others. I also don’t like phoning people and crying the blues, I keep my pain to myself unless with a good friend. But I do know that if I was the friend of a grieving friend, I would definitely call and check in on them – at least! The revelations are stunning. I didn’t get what I gave, but I won’t be giving anymore for sure. ❤
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So sorry for what you’ve gone through this year, Debby, and that you had nobody nearby to help you move. I hope that you settle into your new flat very soon. x
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Thanks Stevie. I’m itching to get the hell out of here! xx
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Wow.😯 I am so sorry you had this miserable experience moving. You really do learn who’s got your back in times like these. You deserve so much more. It was so difficult to read this post. So much sadness and raw emotions. I wish I could give you peace. It’s difficult to find the words to tell someone who’s in so much pain. I feel certain that you will get through this, though. You’re such a strong and extraordinary person. Sending you lots of love and peace.💗
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Thank you so much my dear friend who gets it all. And thank you for your uplifting words and always welcomed love, sweet girl. Hugs back ❤ xoxo
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Those special occasion cards — I understand. I keep many. Eventually, I will probably weed them out, keeping extra special ones and . . . the last ones. The last ones given to me by people in my life who have passed on.
I have no great advice to give in your time of grief. I know only there will be days when everything seems normal and you function as if everything is right with the world. Then there will be moments that will feel like it is the day he died and crush you. Be it 10 months or 100 years, it matters not.
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Diane, you are bang on. That is my new life and so it shall be. I must just wade my way through and find a place where it becomes more bearable. Thank you for your kindness and honesty. ❤
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Oh, my dear Debby, I am breaking my blog “fast” to read and respond here. The recitation of the clown movers and then the appearance of the cavalry – “my good friends Vinnie, Tonie and Alison showed up to help turn my place into a home.” Oh, wow!
Losing your soul-mate and then having to reckon with your shared possessions and moving delivers a double does of grief. You have documented the detail and the emotion needed if this experience becomes another book. Please don’t think of that now. But, you may be able to assuage the grief of others who feel they are losing their minds as they go through this gut-wrenching experience.
Holding you close in heart and hugs! ((( )))
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Marian, first of all, I appreciate your visiting during your blog break. ❤ You are right my friend. I've been doing a lot of writing, and shaking my head as I write. And surely the reading tangent I've been on to help me get through has been somewhat of comfort. So many in my shoes just want to soak up information on what's normal and what's not, and know we aren't alone in some of the things we encounter. I truly hope the book I will definitely write will do the same for others. ❤
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Everything has been extra hard for you, from Covid making life so difficult to the moving. I was so lucky Cyberspouse died at home; getting a terminal cancer diagnosis right from the start is not exactly lucky, but at least we were prepared and had over a year of doing good things, a month of in and out of hospital with our sons and daughter to support us, followed by isolating at home with palliative care just as we went into lockdown, six months of sleepy summer days. None of our family live near, but all took turns to rally round and help with the paperwork and other stuff. After spending the last weeks sleeping on a mattress on the floor by the hospital bed downstairs I decided I did not want to sleep alone in a double bed. With more help from family decorating the back bedroom and buying a new single bed I marked the start of my new unwished for single life. I don’t need to leave the house and garden and my nice neighbours and local friends. Moving is hard work at the best of times and I can imagine how hard it was taking your home to pieces. I hope you find a little peace in your new apartment.
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Janet, thanks for sharing some of your own grief here. I’m sorry, I had no idea. Just goes to show there are quite a few of us that carry heavy hearts. And yet, a most horrendous journey in so many ways. I honestly don’t know how I got this far. My mantra of one day at a time, had turned into one hour at a time. That’s how I function right now. HUgs ❤
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I’m so sorry for all these things coming at you all at once – what a horrendous experience. You are so courageous! I hope soon you’ll have some time to take a rest. Loving hugs, Debby. Toni xx
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Thank you so much my friend. Horrendous is the word choice for sure. Thank you for your visits and your always encouragement Toni. HUgs back xox
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Hi Debby – I have been thinking of you … and certainly feel for the suddeness of it all – but am sure in due time the move will have been the right thing to have done – however a horrendous and desperate now. The loss of your husband is the worst thing that can have happened to you … I desperately feel for you. Have peace, stay safe … and keep writing … and in a reasonable time I hope you can get away for a while to take some time to adjust in quietude … with friends nearby too. With all the best for you for now and as you move on – Hilary xoxo
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Hi Hilary. I thank you for your lovely wishes. I agree, the move was essential – despite how horrendous. I hope to exhale soon and get used to a ‘new’ routine. But a great escape is essential to my mental health first. Hugs ❤ xx
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I have no words to comfort you, Debby. Just hugs. 💖
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Thank you Norah. Hugs are always welcome. ❤
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thank heaven you’ve got some friends you can count on, with the move, and with getting through each day.
hopefully, at some point, you start to enjoy your new place, and you can sit down and look at all those old cards with a smile on your face…
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Thank you Jim. Like I always say – grateful for tender mercies 🙂
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I have been surprised so often by ‘fair weather friends’ I no longer expect different. I am so glad you had Vinnie, Tony, and Allison to help the unpacking. That I’m sure made a huge difference. I think having your own place, without the memories in the very walls around you, should help. You are in my thoughts, Deb, and I appreciate the updates, though I know how difficult they are to post.
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Thanks so much Jacqui. I so appreciate that you and so many of my writing friends continue visit and hold space for me in their thoughts. That’s what friendship is about. ❤
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There’s moving and there’s moving. Uprooting oneself is difficult enough when it’s for a good reason–a new locale, a new home, a new job or a dream. When you’ve lived in one space for years, there’s all that stuff that accumulates that should have been dealt with before–but now you must. Add in the grief of the loss of that loving partner makes it all orders of magnitude more difficult and painful. You will–and you are, getting through it. I look forward to lucid observations of the process in time. Discard, if you haven’t already, the advice giver who suggested you toss the bags of memories!
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Thank you John for a great summation. And be sure, the advice giver won’t be giving me anymore advice. 🙂 Who in their right mind would throw away beautiful memories? ❤
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Debby, I know there is absolutely nothing I can say that will help ease the pain your heart knows. I decided to pack up our house and move just a few short months after Rick passed away. I packed every box by myself (well with the help of Vodka and Cranberry Juice), then paid a local man to haul it all to North Texas where everything I owned went into storage while I moved in with my daughter. I have only a blurred memory of any of it. That’s the body’s way of dealing with it. My heart goes out to you. Much love, soul sister.
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Jan, thank you for sharing snippets of your own journey through loss with me. It means a lot. I can understand how in future it can become a blur, because it’s a most unpleasant and uncomfortable time in our lives. I am proud to be friends with another who has suffered a tragic loss, yet, also gained the strength somehow to get on with the clearing at rapid speed. It’s a very tough thing to do. ❤
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Once again, Debbie, hugs on everything. I still haven’t found a place to move to yet but hopefully soon, though not looking forward to the work of it. Once my health improves, I’ll be able to get things back into some semblance of normalcy.
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Thank you Traci. I wish you good health and the strength to get through that journey when you get there. It’s a tough one in the best of times so take your time. ❤
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Oh, Debby. I’m so sorry that you were alone during such a tremendously difficult time. My heart is breaking for you. Moving and downsizing and sorting are so painful, especially so soon after losing the love of your life. Keep those cards forever! Someday they will bring you so much joy between your tears. I hope your true friends are holding you in their arms as we hold you in our hearts. Love and Hugs. ❤
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Thank you Diana for your beautiful words and heart. ❤
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Challenges that for most people come in singularly and rarely together like an endless train going nowhere. I know that your grief is not going to go away and your heart will always be broken. As to the people who were not there for you, that is there loss as it is a privilege to support others at a time like that and not a chore. Thank goodness you hand San on hand to talk to every day..that face to face communication must have been so precious. I am sure you new home looks amazing and whilst you feel the loss even more keenly having parted with so much from your life with G.. so much more remains. ♥♥
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Sally, your words are so moving, just as they are in everything you write. Thank you for being another of my checkin people through this journey that truly does feel like an endless train ride. ❤ xox
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Like many have already said, I don’t think there is anything I can say that will make you feel better, but know that I believe that many of your friends in the blogging and writing world think about you and wish they could be there to help, every day, Debby.
Having friends like Vinnie, Tonie and Alison is something I think anyone reading your post will make a sigh of relief about. It certainly makes me feel a little better knowing they were there for you.
Take good care and know that we are all thinking about you.
xx
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Thank you my friend. I know well of trying to find the right words for one who grieves. You’re right, there are none. But the fact that I have a place to speak my heart here and that I’m blessed to have so many wonderful real friends here, that despite live far away, gives me comfort knowing they care enough to even read my scribbles. ❤
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Sal, you are a gem. Love you. ❤
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I’m glad you managed (barely) to get moved. I hope you will now make the much needed room to grieve. ((hugs))
grieving
painful yet healing
healing for living
all in your own time
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Thanks so much Ruth. Oh yes, it seems since the last boxes are nearing unpacking, the exhalation is coming and my good friend grief keeps me reminded. Thank you for your heart. ❤
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❤️🙏🏻❤️
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Oh, Debs, it was heartbreaking to read this I can’t believe that you had little to no help with moving and the clown movers as well it must have been a nightmare. I am sure I am not alone in saying I and many others would have helped if we had been closer…But once you are settled you have the mementoes you have kept to take into your new home which will be a godsend for you…Take care of yourself …love and Hugs xx
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Thank you my dear friend. I know in a heartbeat you would have helped. ❤ Hardest lessons I've been living my dear friend. I'm being tested for sure. 🙂 ❤
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My dear sister, Debby. My heart has broken for you so many times in the last few months. You know I’m just a call away. I like the idea of a place to honor G. that brings a little smile to your face every time you walk by. Remember to think in threes. I love you. ❤
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I know your heart my dear sister. I’m sorry that being an empath for you (us) makes it too easy to feel for those close to us. But I do thank you for your heart. And yes, a phone call is muchly in order! I love you too ❤ xx
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I’m so sad that you didn’t get much help and I had to cope with so much alone. That must have been so difficult for you. I’m so glad you kept those cards and can’t believe that anyone would advise you to throw them out. They will always be precious to you. Hoping that somehow you will get through this pain. And glad your friends helped you settle in to your new home. Sending my love as always Marje x
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Thanks so much Marje. I’m so blessed to have so many wonderful friends here. I just wish you all didn’t live so far from me. Hugs ❤
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I’m so sorry you had to deal with such a tough move with so little help. (The movers sound just dreadful.) My mother went through the downsizing process twice after my dad died, and my husband and I were able to help her both times, for which I am very grateful.)
My heart goes out to you in your grief.
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Thank you Liz. Your parents were lucky to have such a good daughter, not only that you helped her, but that it also gave you joy to do so. ❤
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Dear Debbie, I do not have the words to truly convey how my heart goes out to you. I cannot imagine going through a lifetime of everything we own, yet I think about it almost every day. Daunting, overwhelming, exceptionally sad, physically and emotionally exhausting……and I wish you had more support. Maya Angelou’s quote has proven true far too often.
Many of the comments here encourage you to keep writing to release your feelings. Like you said well, Debbie “if it weren’t for writing who knows if I would have made it past teenagedom.” As I continue reading about the cards, tears brimming, they are priceless.
I appreciate your candid, raw sharing. Your husband and you telling this story are making a difference in everyone who reads your story.❤️
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Erica, your comment has so touched my heart. Thank you for reading and your generous heart. ❤
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This is so sad, Debby, in so many ways but also so much filled with love and courage on your part. I am sorry about the nightmare which you had to go through on moving day and in the days that followed. I hope this experience has taught you that you will always be your number one priority and that above all, you will always be there for yourself. ❤
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Thank you Carol. Believe me, the day my husband died, I knew it then, that I was on my all alone. ❤
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I am feeling very sorry for your very sad experiences, Debby! At least i am speechless, because I did not expect something like that. Kind of “Murphy’s Law”, but the worst one. ;-( I hope that you are feeling a little better, but suddenly being so alone is hard to cope with. Perhaps it will comfort you a little when I write, you that you experience something like this even with people who are paid to be there for others. People who are committed to something like this. But it is good to have such experiences early enough, when you by yourself can still change something. Be blessed, watch the little light in the dark. It will become bigger, and it will drive the darkness away. Best wishes, Michael
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Michael, thank you for stopping by. It is all a sad truth, but I thank you for your window of hope – I am watching for the little light to shine through the darkness. Hugs xx
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Ohhh my buddy, heartbreak on top of devastating heartbreak. I look at all the loving comments here and know, that along with San, Vinnie, Toni and Alison, here is your tribe. Would your global village tribe have showed up for you? You bet we would…. ❤ Those wise words from Maya Angelou are true and as we observe others behaviour towards us, in the midst of heartbreak, we make a clear decision to cut them out. It doesn't help you though, when you are faced with downsizing, grief, moving and movers muppetry. Muppetry being the politest word I could use on here.
Wrapping you in so much love and as for your cards? They are precious memories and irreplaceable.
I love you, my unicorn buddy and send you love and prayers every day. ❤ Xxx ❤ ❤ ❤
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My Lovely Jane. You are the all knowing. You are correct, with the exception of a handful of friends here, and the so many of you who live far and wide away from me, I already know in my soul there is much more for me in the world away from here. This grueling move was the first stepping stone to ease and untangle my financial living conditions for a stop along the way until I can see my way, until the universe signals me where it is I should move to. There is nothing to keep me here any longer, and I can take my husband in my heart with me wherever I go. I love you my unicorn buddy. Thank you for your kind heart. ❤ ❤ xoxo 🦄🦄
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❤ ❤ ❤ my dear Deb.
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Hugs Sher ❤ ❤
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Oh, Debby… how I wish I could ease your pain in some way. It’s heartbreaking to know you’re trying to navigate through this on your own. I give thanks to the dear friends that are there for you. Please know that you’re always in my thoughts, and I hope you feel the love that surrounds you. xo
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Thanks so much Natalie. It’s the love that I receive from my wonderful circle of friends here that often keeps me going. Thank you. ❤
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Oh… Deb, I am so sorry you are dealing with another pain, moving in itself is hurtful but moving when the heart is still bleeding is so hard! I have tears in my eyes Deb while I write this and words fail me. Sending you big hugs dear friend. Such moments are unforgettable but then life goes on, it doesnt have a delete button for the aches it gives. Take care of your health.
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Thank you Balroop for your heartfelt and poetic words. You are right on every count. Thank you my friend ❤
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Deb, I’ve moved 35+ times in my life, and the one thing I’ve never downsized is my box of cards and letters. Too precious to let go. I’m with you, sister. My heart to your heart ❤️
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Tina, of course we’d never do that. I love you my friend. ❤
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Dear Debby, everything you share is so sadly true about friends. When we started our moving process, my hubby’s friends all but abandoned him. Covid and our 21st-century world have also changed so much how we interact. I can see by the outpouring of love, friendship, and affection that your online community truly values you and wishes (like I do) that we could have helped you. Moving house is not easy for ANYONE, I’m there with you but I have my Hercules Hans by my side. Could I have done what you did without him? Not very well, and I’m at the age where I wake up to make sure he is still breathing. Virtual hugs to you my sweet friend. My cousin recently lost her sweet husband at 58, she has been a little lost too. I’m rambling and my prattling is probably useless, but I care about you. We are still moving in, waiting for our 30-50 shop to be done so we can take all our sh!t out of storage. sigh. Be strong, girl! We love you!
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Hi Ter, thanks bunches for coming by and leaving a smile behind. Isn’t it funny how much we learn when faced needing a friend. So many are ‘fair weathered’. We live and learn. And I’m so sorry to hear about your cousin losing her husband. It seems that so many have died and are dying in this terrible pandemic time. If it’s not Covid, for many, like my husband, it’s not being able to get the right treatmnent during Covid. The world is a difficult place to be in right now. I’m itching to fly away somewhere, yet with the damn Covid, doors aren’t welcoming too many. Truly a very long year this -2020. ❤
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I’ve only just seen this, Debby. I’ve not been on the Internet for a while but I wanted you to know how moved I am by what you’ve written here. Death and moving house come top of the stress factors and to go through both in such a short space of time sounds heartbreaking and exhausting. I’m so sorry that you had to do so much of this on your own but, as these comments show, you’ve touched many, many people through your writing and comments and we’re standing behind you in solidarity with love and sadness for you in our hearts. I’m glad that you’ve found an outlet for some of your grief in your writing.
As for the two bags of cards, we’ve kept ours and the thought of someone suggesting that they be thrown out would hurt to the core. In time, you’ll be able to look at them again and remember the occasions with pleasure as well as sadness.
One hour at a time. ❤️
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Absolutely Trish. Once again, thank you for your kindness and love and support. It has truly meant so much to me. ❤
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Living on autopilot is a natural “defense mechanism” when we deal with emotional hardships. I believe this is what allowed you to pack in so many practicalities the last few months. If your body would have allowed you to break-down all the way, all you could have done was lie in bed and cry. Such endurance that you showed, Debby, but it got the job of moving done and you will appreciate that in the future.
I’m so sorry that you had to go through all this mostly by yourself, though. I wish I could have been around to help out. As you know, I was visiting my loved ones in Belgium after three years of not being able to. Even if I would have been in the US, border crossings weren’t allowed. I am happy you had some good friends around in Toronto. From experience, I agree with your statement “Trauma teaches us just how many are really in our life, and how many actually give a shit.” It’s unfortunate.
My dear oma always told me you can only totally rely on one person: yourself. While this is a sad statement and realization, it is true. In the end. I still rely too much on other people for certain things but feel that being totally self-reliant makes us stronger. Sending love and strength your way, my friend!
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You have summed it all up beautifully Liesbet, sad truth and all. And your Oma was right too. Thank you my friend for your words and sharing some of yourself ❤
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A horrible time to move yet one that makes sense. I’m so sorry to read of how difficult and challenging it was. Downsizing isn’t fun for anyone and particularly not one who is in the midst of grieving. I have several friends who are going through downsizing to smaller places now and they’re all tearing their hair out. Me? I’ve done it three times so far and I find it freeing to get rid of “ stuff.”
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Thanks Pam. Believe me, it is another move of many of downsizing (or so I thought) down the way. But certainly up there in my top 2 of ugliest moves. And yes, in a way it is freeing, but still hard. ❤
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What a harrowing experience, Debby. Sorry I haven’t commented before, but I’m pleased you have made it. It’s a show of your strength, and yes, you’re right. Those moments teach us about the people around us. My mother also threw herself into doing things when my Dad died, and I am happy I could be here with her, even if I wasn’t sure what to do. I hope you’re feeling a bit more rested and settled, Debby. And thanks for sharing such difficult moments.
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Olga, thank you for taking the time to visit some of my posts you missed while on vacay. I so appreciate you and lovely to have you back. ❤
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