Our agent called us this week and asked how soon we could move out. Escrow will close sooner than we thought. Sunday is our last day. Today we all went to Cleveland Ave to put away the last of our unpacked things. David spent his time and energy in the garage. I spent mine on the toilets, showers, tubs and bathroom sinks. Breanna spent her time walking to the neighbors place and tossing what she called gifts, which were her old toys that she found in the garage that she hoped our former neighborhood friend would like…seemed like David might have gathered them all back since it made a mess of their yard. Chloe fortunately slept half the time I was cleaning and when she woke up I penned her in the master bedroom and continued cleaning until she got so bored. She got to try out the new carpet.

It was a really hard day. Part of me felt that the move to mama and papas never had happened…it felt like I was at home yet without furniture. I am extremely visual and every point and angle I see of the house brought back memories that I couldn't stuff. I let myself relive them while a toddling toddler toddled all around me, unaware of the traumatic changes that had persistently tortured her parents for 6 months. We are riding the economic pendulum and while they say that the recession is over, lots of recovery has to take place. It's so hard to leave a place I loved. I've moved many times before during college but I never really loved or learned so much in that state of life…so I wasn't attached. This house was different. It's where I learned to cook, learned to fight, learned to be a wife…it's a place where I raised my kids, where I learned so much about balancing life… it's where my life in a way got started. 

So many memories I treasure about that house that gave us security, privacy, boundaries to learn about ourselves (and the intuition that God gave us). What I loved most about living in our own Miller home was the freedom to rest in that little corner between two walls and be comfortable in the presence of God. And there were lots of little corners to plop into. It's a bit harder to do that here at our kids' grandparents house where there are two more people from my past that changes all the dynamics of my Miller family. We aren't as comfy to be ourselves here; and there is unfortunately a bitter, cold war going on in this house…it's of multiple unfinished businesses. Demons walk boldly through the walls of this Vidal house. Skeletons creep out and make music with their hallow bones…you can't hear it with your ears but that untouchable part of me sort of feels it between my head and heart and it feels like a scary living dead. I like that the house is bigger and cleaner here but the dysfunctional-ity here wreaks a foul smell. We are looking forward to having our own place again. For now we will tolerate the chaotic "dementia".

Anyways, we've reached the tail end of our hardship yet unfortunately this tail got sharp spikes that has a sting to its whip. Sorting through memories are the hardest thing to do. We miss the house so much. The best thing we've done for ourselves was walk through the neighborhood's wiggly sidewalk like we always had done as a family and shared our memories, both good and bad. We got extra fresh oxygen and a good 20 plus minutes of left-brain, right-brain healing. Some in the psychology field may know the process as EMDR. If David and I weren't seeing a professional doctor during these trying times, I wouldn't know how we'd survive as a family or marriage. I thank God for helping us learn the step by step process of grieving. Interestingly thought though is that God created the scientific minds who became professionals to teach others how to grieve. It all comes back to God, our creator.

Thank you, God.