leavings

As I was leaving my mom’s house this morning someone said this would likely be the last time I was there. It had already been a morning and that was the icing on an emotional and tear filled stretch. 

I’d woken up to find after yesterday’s frantic delve into figuring what of my mom’s things to keep that there was even more to process - a stack of files including lawyer bills from my parent’s divorce, medical info and doctor reports that slammed the past smack into the present, photos and memorabilia, hate mail from my grandmother. Yeah, that was a thing. There were dark and painful stretches both in my growing up and being a grown up. Things that I haven’t quite figured out how to shine a light on so they can’t sabotage me anymore. Work in progress. 

And then I stripped the bed for the last time. Did a last load of laundry. Kissed my stepfather goodbye. Drove passed the pool I swam in countless times. Glanced at the palm trees and remembered all the neighbors I’d met who left in one way or another over the years. I remembered how my mom would come pick my up at the airport. Where the Starbucks was. The snack shop I’d been in countless times to waste time. The trip my brother and I crossed paths at the gate when we were tag teaming being with my mom in the hospital. Likely this was my last time there too. 

Endings are endings. There’s a deep sadness, a not wanting to let go, of already missing what was without knowing what will be. I know endings bring beginnings but it’s all still too raw to imagine what those might be. For now I’m just feeling and working on being ok with not knowing exactly what all these feelings are.