My new normal

I wasn't having fun at that moment. In fact, I texted Dorsey: "I'm DONE!"

So much has happened in the almost-month since I last posted. The most significant thing, I suppose, was surviving my second antique show ... this one in Richmond, IN.  This is how it happened, and this is what I learned:

First leg of the trip. Lovely, right?

Loading up. Tornado hit 6 miles from us.

New brick floor while I was gone. Could not be happier.

Greatest find so far. c.1810 New England corner cupboard, original paint

• Just me and Mary: We did it!
• Just me pulling our 11X14 trailer for 15 hours each way: I can do it. Keep packing that cooler with healthy food. 
• Listening to two David Baldacci books along the way: Love Baldacci and appreciate books on CD soooooooo much! (Do audio books count as reading?)
• Experiencing part of the country I've never seen before: This may be the best part of this business venture. Travel travel travel!
• Denting a wheel cover on the trailer the very first day of the trip: Make wide turns, especially at the gas station. 
• Unloading 90 percent of the trailer for the show all by myself: I can do it.
• Loading and unloading in the rain and tornado warnings: That sucked. But even then it was funny. Don't wear flip flops.
• Learning more about the antique business from my mother-in-law and others: Love learning. Must stay positive at all times. 
• Buying the most gorgeous corner cupboard I've ever seen: Probably won't be able to sell this antique. Dorsey and I love it!
• Unloading 90 percent of the trailer back into the house and shop upon returning home: I rock.
• Redecorating my entire house once I returned: Whew! I kinda like doing that.
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  Redecorating can be great fun!

• Getting a brand new kitchen floor ... which I love and adore and love love love: Why didn't I do that sooner? :-) ALWAYS do renovations when you don't have to be there in the mess ... if you suffer from OCD!
• Shows will be much better and less stressful when Dorsey can go, too: I'm strong, but, damn, it's hard work and I'm not getting any younger! And Mary is 88 years old and should NOT be doing this stuff. (She can PACK a trailer!)

I think I'm finding my life's new "normal." :-)

When crying is inconvenient ...

Hold me, Mama. I'll make you feel better. — Socks

Sometimes when I wait too long to post, those things that mattered to me at the time don't seem important anymore ... either because it takes too much energy to remember it all like it was and how it felt, or because I can't even remember anymore.

So first things first: I'm sitting right in the middle of the anniversary of my parents' deaths. Mom died May 13 last year, and Dad died May 23.

I feel as though I've been on a roller coaster of inexplicable emotions. I'm happy one minute ... on top of the world with all the possibilities, and then I'm bawling the next. I'll smile at happy memories, and then I'll cry when I think of the last several months of my parents' lives. I still feel angry when I picture my parents doing the normal things they did, and then realize they aren't here anymore. I continue to think, "This isn't the way it was supposed to be." Every day holds something in it that belongs to my parents. Every day.

Mostly, though, I find myself just being irritable ... unless I'm being distracted with activities, such as cleaning, redecorating, watching Jordie's baseball games, traveling, listening to audiobooks on the road, watching HGTV, or as it has been a lot lately, hanging out with my sister.

The anniversary week of my mom's death, I spent several days at Kim's. We ran errands, got our nails and toes done, went to eat several times, and hung out with Kim's other "sister" Melissa. Then I spent last week, up until yesterday, with Kim in Hutchinson, Kan., to watch Jordie and his team play baseball. We watched games, wandered through downtown, found neat little local eateries and took Jordie out to eat. (Hutchinson isn't a bad little place!)

I've found, however, that these distractions only postpone reality. When not engaged in distractions, I'm truly awful.

The fact is, it would be easier to just cry and cry and cry and cry ... except it's never convenient to do that. Being around people and crying is uncomfortable for everyone, including me; crying in the car makes seeing and concentrating difficult; even crying in front of pets seems to make the pets uncomfortable. Crying also gives me a massive headache. The day before Mother's Day, I went to the cemetery and spent a couple of hours ... I sat for quite awhile, but only after I cleaned the bird crap off the headstone and pulled all the dandelions from their burial plots. (I suppose I should go again soon, just for the sake of upkeep.) I cried for Mom. I cried for Dad. I cried for Koda. And my head hurt for two days after that visit.

Crying is inconvenient, painful and unwanted. Period.

So here I am today, plodding through each activity and making lists of things I need to accomplish in the upcoming days and weeks. I put one foot in front of the other, with some footsteps more graceful than others.

That's just how it goes, and today isn't all that graceful.

The Great Sadness

If you have read the book, "The Shack," by Paul Young, you probably recognize the phrase "The Great Sadness."

It's what the main character called the feeling that enveloped his whole being after the disappearance and murder of his young daughter.

Yes, he continued to go through life, but he felt as if he were going through the motions. The Great Sadness overshadowed every part of his life. Joy eluded him.

I feel that way now.

And I don't think there's anything more to say.

One year is just around the corner ...

Since my parents died close to a year ago now, I sometimes feel like all I am is a downer when it comes to discussing this whole grief ordeal. Yes, there have been some really great times during the past year ... got to go to Sandpoint, ID, and to Curacao, and I started my Tin Cats Antiques business.

All of that has been great, and the business has been the perfect distraction from my emotional reality.

But, honestly, since about Thanksgiving or a little before, I have struggled. I got a little break from constant sadness when getting ready for Round Top, and then during Round Top ... but then a man from Santa Fe visited with us for a long time at our booth ... and the man looked like my dad in the eyes. I swear we could have been talking to my dad! 

After that, I had difficulty concentrating, especially during the last two days of the show when it was so slow, and because I was sooooo drained. I hadn't had much time to myself, so I felt pretty crowded and overwhelmed.

For a week after Round Top, my days were a flurry and a mess. I had to get my financial stuff straight, figure out where to store furniture our house can't handle, and get some much-needed things done around the house.

Everything is in order now. Dorsey started his new job TODAY! (We've known about it since the day we left for Round Top — thank you, Jesus.) Finances are in order. Taxes are filed. The garage is fixed and painted (Dorsey did it), insurance policies have changed, health insurance is taken care of, pets are all good, the inside of the house is all painted and caught up, the trailer for hauling antiques is bought, Jordie is having a phenomenal baseball season and I'm getting to go to all the games ... 

And here we are. Almost all caught up. 

Mom and Dad with Jordie in May of 2013. Yes, we knew Dad had cancer, and yes, Mom had just had a "small" stroke. Still ... all was well. 

So today, with Dorsey away on his first day on the job (in Tampa — we stay in Amarillo), my parents' deaths hit me like a hurricane, reminding me that distractions only work for a little while. Only a little while. There is no escape from grief. None.

So what happened today to set me off? My usual walk with Indy when I tell God I'm all messed up and confused and disordered, and I don't know where to turn or what to do. And then Jordie texted me that he will be pitching on Friday — his 21st birthday. — and my first thought is, "I need to call Dad!" 

Whoops.

Dammit! (No, Jordie, it's not your fault. It's life.)

And here I am again. 

I know this grief thing is forever. 

I know it is. I will never NOT miss my parents. I will never stop wanting to see them again. I will never stop hoping for the evasive visit from the heavens ... 

But I'm truly counting on the words of my friends before me who say that someday, the memories and thoughts will be more pleasant than painful.

I  need that to be true. 

It's only been almost a year ... I don't think I can last another 30-40 years otherwise ... 

Lord, have mercy.

One down, many more to go!

Our next show!!

So here's the thing: I like to post on my personal site because, well, I like the blog format and I can handle it. Updates to the other site are coming soon ... as well as updated merchandise.

Our trip to Round Top and participation in the Original Round Top Antiques Fair was invaluable. While we had sales success (and some extremely long days, as well), perhaps the best part at this time in our development was the contacts we made. Lots of great people with great connections to other shows and other people.

As a result, we already have lined up a few additional shows, starting with the one advertised in the photo above. 

• Heartland Antiques Show, Saturday June 4 in Richmond, IN.
• The Original Round Top Antiques Fair, Sept. 26-Oct. 1 in Round Top, TX
• Boerne Fall Antiques Show, Nov. 19&20, Boerne, TX
• Fiddlers Antique Show, Feb. 15-18, 2017, Nashville, TN

I can already tell this will be quite a journey. I am exhausted and still recovering from Round Top. Doing these things is a challenge with chronic pain and no time to rest. Somehow, I'll figure out a way to manage. At least I've waited until after the show to crash!! And, not every show is a full six days. Most are one to three days. Fiddlers is four. Regardless, I'm excited. 

I can't believe this is my life now.

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P.S. My dad's truck is perfect for this. It pulls a trailer beautifully.