Another part that is soon to be gone? The "land line" phone in our house with his voice on the answering machine. "We're unable to come to the phone right now, but if you'll leave a message after the beep, we'll get back to you as soon as possible." I can't tell you how often I've listened to his voice deliver that message. But I'm slowly admitting that no one really calls the home phone anymore except the automated clothing donation messages. I get 99.9% of my calls on my cell, and I know it is time to let the home phone go. Yet another small piece of D disappearing. It is painful.
The GriefShare DVD said that we should just "lean into" our pain as we experience it. That would be fine if it ever came at an appropriate time. Should I have "leaned" into it when it hit while looking at antiques with my sister on Saturday? Or how about when I felt overwhelmed shopping at the new organic grocery store that D was so looking forward to having in our neighborhood? I am just not good at sharing My Crazy in the company of strangers. So usually I just keep it stuffed in and carry it home to "lean" into it.
The good news? I never feel a need to "lean" while I'm in my classroom. It's almost like being in the middle of 19 frisky puppies rolling all over each other. What is not to love about all that life in one space? School is my happy place, and these students are the best therapy possible. I'm not even sure if my students' parents know my story, so they see me as mostly normal. Hopefully.
I'm trying to go through some of D's things. I had determined I'd use my Labor Day off from school to start sorting through some paperwork and finances. About an hour into the process, I was so exhausted I needed a nap. At 9 a.m. Things are moving slowly. Apparently, I'm not "leaning" into those little chores either.
As things disappear around me, I'm reminded of The Truth: "We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporal. But the things which are not seen are eternal." (II Cor. 4:18)
I'm not just leaning on that promise. I'm standing firmly. And believing as old things pass away, that all things will become new.