Still rounding the corner

If I stop and look at myself and my behavior from far away, I can see I'm progressing in the grieving process. It's been just about four months since Mom and Dad died, and I continue to notice new things. (But first I have to say I can't believe it's been four months; it still seems like yesterday because they are always right there with me.)

I shared in my last post that our trip to Sandpoint allowed me to truly take a step forward in enjoying life again. I didn't know whether being home would set me back, or whether I would continue to move forward.

I think I'm still rounding the corner. I say that because now I can look at the pictures we took after Mom had her stroke in October of last year. I can look at them. I still feel the pain, but I don't avoid them anymore. And when I see some of those pictures, especially those of my parents in those last days, I have reposted them on Facebook. Yes, I know you've seen them all before. But I need them to be right where they are at this time. Facebook friends, bear with me.

I've also posted memes about missing moms and dads.

Some might say I'm stuck on Mom and Dad. I might even have said that about myself if I were actually observing someone else.

I can now see it's simply a matter of revisiting these things with a new pair of glasses. The pain is not so raw I have to avoid them. I can see now I'm moving toward viewing pictures of that time as sweet memories.  Not yet, but I'm getting there.

I also came home from that trip and worked in the yard — in the bird garden we created for my mom. I hadn't touched it since she died. I had simply lost interest in the yard and stopped spending time in it or on the patio. But last week, I pulled weeds, refilled the bird feeders and the bird bath, cleaned up the patio furniture and the grill, and have spent nearly every day on the patio, reading a book or playing with the cats.  I've felt "normal" again.

I also repurposed the "little room" that's part of our master room and bath. That room has been several things since it was first created by Mary and Dick, Dorsey's parents. They used it as a small office. When we bought the house, we also used it as Dorsey's office. A couple of years ago, I made it into more closet space. When Dad moved in last year, I cleared it out to make it his space, if he wanted it. (Turns out, he didn't.) When Mom moved in, we made it her space; it just fit her bed and her belongings.

When Mom and Dad died, I made that space my "mom cave." I put the recliner we had bought for Mom's room at Good Life in it, and the space became my hideaway.

When I returned from Sandpoint, I no longer felt the need to hide away. I realized I have our bedroom, the couch, and a pretty space in the living room in which I could either nap or do my morning study routine.

Panorama of my closet addition.

I gave the recliner to another family member and turned the area into holding more closet shelf space again.

We have some sad times still left on our to-do list with my parents' things. Oct. 16 is a month away ... the day this all began. We have Mom's birthday, Dad's birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas ... they're all coming.

But like everything else, I must confront these things and move through them. As I've learned from others who have been through the loss of parents, though, no matter what steps I take forward, the loss will always feel new and surreal.

I miss my parents more today than ever.