Waiting for the Right Time

Had a good day today.  Shopping at WalMart, time at dad's house while Rachel was at a friend's house, shopping at Lowes, and some work around the house late in the afternoon.  Got lots done - much more than is normal for me.  It's like I have to prove that I can still accomplish tasks without mom around.  She was always so much more motivated than me to get things done.

In fact, today at dad's house, I had to keep stopping myself from starting certain tasks.  You see, I remember how much better I felt after I would go through some part of the house and re-organize it.   

Several times within an hour, I wanted to start going through the drawers in one of the bathrooms at dad's house - to go through and pull out all the stuff that doesn't need to be there anymore.  I wanted to change that small part of the house to reflect mostly dad instead of mostly mom.  But I stopped myself.  And that was a good thing.

You see, it took me several months to get to the point that I was ready to do that with Michell's stuff.  And dad has to come to his own decision about when he is ready to go though mom's stuff.  She was my mom, but his wife.  He is the one who has to live in that house, and he is the one who has to make decisions about when and what he wants to cull.

So, I'm waiting.  Waiting for the time when dad is ready - when he either cleans it out himself or asks someone for help with it.  Waiting for him to be (more) at peace with both his loss and his life.

He'll get there.  Just like I did.