My weekend

I had the weekend off from work, and since my rent payment for storage was due, I walked from my apartment to the church I attend, which is also where the storage units are. Nobody was there, since the place was closed in observance of Thanksgiving. The guy who is renting the unit to me also just happens to be a former neighbor, so I thought I'd walk to his house to try to catch him there. I lived next door to the left of this man and his wife from 1991 to 2008, and so I knew what this would mean. The old neighborhood and the house I grew up in. I didn't have any luck giving him my check that day, but I stood staring at my old house for a long time. Even though another family lives there, it still, in a way, is home. I stood there for a while thinking about all the events that had taken place there with my own family, from birthday parties, to new babies being bronght there from the hospital, to just everyday life. I looked at the backyard where so many of us played as children, and noticed the building my dad helped construct was still standing. The pecan trees out front are still standing. Everything, with the exception of this new family's belongings, is just as it was left 3 years ago. Then the sadness set in. Thoughts of my siblings coming over to this house to visit Mom and Dad as adults, and the thoughts of my peers being able to have those moments with their parents. I will never be able to do this. Ever. I lost that chance before I ever had it, and that hurts deeply. So many times I watch them interact with each other, and it is truly a special sight to see that, but at the same time, I don't want to watch. Sometimes I feel like an old woman trapped in a young woman's body.

After leaving the neighborhood, I decided it was a nice enough day to go for another short walk, this time to the cemetery where Mom and Dad were laid to rest. Maybe then, being close to them physically, I would feel some sort of normalcy. The stay was a short one, as it usually is. After kissing their headstones goodbye and telling them I loved them, I turned and walked out of the cemetery. That's when a voice intenally spoke and said, "This is what love truly is and you've known it all along.." The voice spoke truth, and my heart was touched enough that a wave of emotion rolled over me, and I began to cry a little. It took some time to compose myself, but as human beings, these feelings are only natural. The pain we feel is the price we pay for loving so deeply. But, on the other hand, the comfort of knowing that our loved ones are safe and well, and happier than ever, feeling love more intense than our minds can fathom, is absolutely uncomparable to anything else.

I returned to work today, still feeling a little down from Saturday, and feeling very quiet. The day wasn't necessarily the greatest, but I have to work, so I did what needed to be done. I really should have eaten somethng before going to work, but I didn't, so by the time I got off, hunger and irritablilty had set in. I'm grateful to work with patient people. I think tomorrow will be better.