And that winter, according to recent information on the news, we had 70 inches of snow. A lot more than this year (we're around 50" right now)...but this winter seems worse.
Every winter the last five years seems worse. Even without snow and bitter cold temperatures. I know that I need to get out more, but it's really hard to get motivated when you're so cold. We do get out at least once a week to the girls basketball games. And yesterday, we decided to take a walk-so we went to the mall and got an hour in. Hard to do, but we did it.
Got some reading done too. First book I read this winter was My Son and the Afterlife. Written by Elisa Medhus, M.D. Her son completed suicide when he was 20. Some time after he passed away, she decided to go to a medium - who was able to contact her son. The book is almost all dialogue between Elisa, the medium and her son. It is very comforting. He answers questions about what it was like to die, what heaven is like, how he can communicate. Now I understand that most people might look at this and think "this woman is crazy". Not me. I believe that we can communicate with our loved ones after they die. We get signs all the time. We talk to God...and we pray to Jesus and to Saints...and THEY hear us. So why can't our loved ones? Believing is what gets me through each day.
The other book I started last night and finished today. Another good one by Mitch Albom. for one more day. The story of a son, his mother, their relationship in life and after her death. This one is fiction, I would say realistic fiction. It's about near death experiences. Couldn't put it down.
So that brings me to the "stuff".
Sitting here this winter (and I've done more of that than I care to admit) I'm on the computer a lot and Im beginning to hate that. But as I look around, all I see is "stuff". I think about my dad's house - houses actually - and all the "stuff" he has. And how much of that stuff really matters. How much of that stuff I want, or need. Dad tried for several years to get me, Sue and Donna over to his house to "take whatever we want". I have a houseful of stuff that I don't need. Or want. And I need to decide what to take from mom and dad's house. Already have pictures. The last time dad was home for the summer, he spent a lot of time going through pictures, sorting them out for me, Sue and Donna. Tubs full for each of us.
I imagine that's what I will be doing soon for Nick. And the boys. We probably have 50-75 photo albums (numbered in chronological order thanks to Donny) and a few boxes full of pictures. Why in the world did I do that? I do have a lifetime of pictures of Melissa. I love that. And sometimes I think "I need to make sure to take as many pictures as I can of Nick and the boys..." because I'm afraid.
That's all I'll say. I'm afraid.
But what about all those pictures of vacations and houseboat trips and trips with my school friends. Nick and the boys won't care about those. And some photos of, well, I don't even know who.
And that's just pictures.
Why are things so important to us? Why do we keep buying and changing and redoing? What does it really matter?
It's so hard to get rid of things that you've hung onto for long periods of time. Donny and I went through boxes in the basement in the fall. When I opened the boxes, I just couldn't imagine why I had even boxed the things up. Why didn't I just get rid of them? I didn't live through the depression like my grandparents did. What was I thinking?
I am not a hoarder by any means. But I have a lot of stuff that needs to go.
Oh, I will hang on to anything that is Melissa's. Pretty much anything she even touched. And we still have a lot of Nick's stuff too (that Donny has been trying to get him to take to his OWN house). It's about the memories. I need that.
But the other stuff? It's going to be gone. A basement full, an attic full. Clothes, kitchen appliances, kitchen stuff, suitcases (why do I buy a new suitcase, bag, carryon everytime we go somewhere????),bedclothes, sheets, towels...you name it, I have it. In multiples. That we don't need.
Sounds like a garage sale, doesn't it? Not for me. Too much work. No garage.
So I'm writing this to motivate myself to get this done.
(you see, when you are retired, there is no hurry to get anything done...because if you don't feel like doing it today, you can always do it tomorrow.)
That's when it will get done. Tomorrow.
In the meantime, if you need anything - call me. It's all free.
My dream shouldn't take second place here, but the "stuff" thing has been really bothering me (that's why I'm on the computer instead of dealing with the "stuff"- easier getting motivated to write instead of clean! My daughter was just like me!)
Actually, I said dream...I meant visit. Because it was real.
First of all, it was a Friday night. That night, Donny and I had gone to a dinner for his work. On the way there, I told Donny "I just want to pick up the phone and call Melissa. I just want to hear her voice...ask her how her day was..." we were both emotional.
In the dream, I don't remember where we were, but we were together for a long time. We talked a lot, she looked great, but I don't remember a lot of what we talked about. I do remember asking her to visit more often - I said "I don't want you to get in trouble..." and she said "I won't get in trouble, I can visit whenever I want"...
So now I expect a visit every night. And I'm not getting it. She must have a lot of friends in heaven and she must be pretty busy. Just like here. I'll just have to take what I can get. The rest of my life would be a lot better if I could see her every night. She comes around when I need her though.
Thanks Fort - more visits though, Please.
Of course I need to post some pictures - this would be boring otherwise. And Fort wouldn't have it any other way. Miss you pretty girl. Every single minute of every single day.
Pop Pop and the boys after a busy night of partying.
One of the many snowy days. Since we don't have a garage, we pull the windshield wipers up so they don't get frozen to the windshield. Sick of this...
Celebrated Melissa's birthday at China Cottage. Always and forever. Or as long as
China Cottage is there. Then I don't know what we'll do.
Took the boys out to lunch at BW3. Andrew said "this was a great lunch Pamma"
So we wrote a note to the waitress on the back of our bill.
Me and Brady Hoke, Head Football Coach @ Michigan.
He was inducted into Fairmont High School Hall of Fame,
along with Sean Nelson (friend of Nick's and son of our friends Greg & Denise)
and Ryan Reed, son of Ron & Debbie - high school friends.
So, winter is hard, I have cabin fever, I miss Melissa.
But I am still here....and like everyone else in Ohio
counting the days til spring.