I’m back home right now, for whatever that’s worth. Back at the house I grew up in; my dad’s house. The place I told him a thousand times to sell, if he wanted to move somewhere that felt better for him. The place I told him was only a house to me while he was alive, and now, it’s a place that feels…
I’ve been here alone for the last week. This is the longest I’ve been by myself in this place since my dad passed. I’ve had friends and family allow me to stay with them, or stay with me – but now I’m here, trying to figure it all out, alone. There’s something I appreciate about that, something I feel like a necessary burden – but at the same time, it’s such a struggle and I really don’t ever know if what I’m doing is the right step or completely in the wrong direction.
Since I’ve been here I’ve repaired the washing machine, taken things to be donated and recycled, looked after the lawn, checked in on family, attended to legal matters and heck knows what else. Tomorrow I’m going to work on fixing dad’s truck with his best friend (fingers crossed I diagnosed the repair correctly), then sorting out more paperwork for dad.
I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here – a week or two, for sure – but I’m hoping at some point I can make a day to simply relax, unwind and appreciate the gifts, blessings and practical jokes my dad has left for me. Until then, I’ll be pressing on, trying to make sense of it all.
Strong shoulders, strong will. Come visit.