I found myself at my parents' house today. In some ways, it feels like I'm walking into a museum. Things are mostly the way they were on the day my parents left. My dad needs a new eyeglass case, and he told me he has some at the house, so I began to look through some dresser drawers. This act in itself seemed kind of illegal. I was digging into things that are my parents' personal items. It's a creepy feeling, and I know it is only the beginning. I came across a few items that really hit me emotionally. One was a Valentine card I had made for my parents when I was in elementary school. The doilies I had used (and yes, you know you made things out of doilies too!), were all yellowed and the glue had dried out, but the message was there. In my childish handwriting, I had written a long note, professing my love for my mommy and daddy. And so began the tears.
The next thing I found was a card dated October of 1969. It was a birthday card to my mom, from her mom. Now my mother's mother died in 1970. I was less than 2 years old and have no memory of her, but the card said, "To my Theresa," and I thought about how much my mom's own mother must have loved her, and more tears came. I thought about the love that had been passed down from these women that I now pass on to my own children. And I realized that when she received this card, my mother had no way of knowing that in a matter of months, she would lose her mother. At this point, I began sobbing hysterically.
As I looked at these items, I sat on my mom's bed. This was the bed that I had sought refuge in from a bad dream, the bed I was allowed to lie in during the day if I wasn't feeling well. In those moments I became a child again. It was as if I was looking down at my younger self and all my childhood memories seemed to be happening over again all at once. I kept trying to calm myself by saying over and over in my head, "They aren't gone, you can just go see them." But in reality, they are gone. I can go to The Arbors and visit two people who look just like my parents, but the parents I knew are gone, and they aren't coming back.
I had the urge to go out to the backyard, and sit in the spot where I used to dig as a child. I remember always looking up from that spot and feeling like the back door of the house was so far away, as if I were off on my own island. Today, I could not believe the reality when I sat in that spot and looked up. The back door couldn't have been more than 10 feet away! I wandered over to the spot where my dad used to have a beautiful vegetable garden. The area is fenced in and has now become overgrown and unrecognizable.
Suddenly, it all became too much. I began to cry and gasp and almost moan at the same time. The sounds that came out of me were ones I can only remember hearing once before-when I lost my third child in the fourth month of pregnancy. Again, it was as if someone else were making the sounds, but there I was, all alone in the house, and this time my husband was not there to wrap his arms around me. After what seemed like an hour, but was just mere minutes, I composed myself somewhat.
I went back inside because my sister had texted me to say that she had found my birth announcement the last time she was there. There it was, dated Sept 1968, in the town newspaper. I saw my birth announcement and the announcements of four other kids that I would later meet in elementary school! Needless to say, I was intrigued with the ads and stories from my town 44 years ago. Want ads in the back of the paper specified that they wanted male or female workers--that would never be allowed today! There was also a story about local female high school teachers who wanted equal pay for coaching sports! There was an ad for a meeting of moms to discuss the topic of "Furnishing your home for a happy life!" Wow! I have always been a crazy fan of the show "Leave it to Beaver," and always felt I was born in the wrong era. Looking at this newspaper, and feeling the complications of life on me now, I so long for the time when things seemed so much simpler.
My heart is yearning to go back to a time before things changed so much. I am feeling change all around me, not just because of my parents, but because my kids are growing up as well. I'm feeling my own mortality like I've never felt it before. I feel like the sands of the hourglass just kicked it into high gear. I'm sure I am a downer to be around lately, and I know this isn't light hearted reading, but I feel it is cathartic for me, so I beg your forgiveness.
Thanks for listening.
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